.  g       -   m  •  •  " 


1 


ANTS    AT    WORK. 


CECIL'S  BOOKS  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


E  C  I  L'S 


OOK  OF  iPHiNSECTS 


S  E  I,  I  M      H  .      P  E  A  B  O  D  Y ,    M  .  A  . 


CHICAGO : 

CLARKK  AM)  COMPANY. 
1868. 


P3? 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868, 
BY  CLARKE  AND  COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Northern  District  of 
Illinois. 


M350166 


TABLE   OF    CONTENTS. 


ABOUT   ANTS. 

ANTS  AT  WORK Frontispiece. 

ANTS:  Watching  an  Ant-hill  —  The  Ant-town — Their  cocoon-sacks  — 
How  colonies  are  founded  —  What  they  eat  —  Their  dairy-farms 
—  Their  industry  —  Brown  Ants  —  Carpenters  —  Kidnapping 
Ants  — The  Sauba  Ant  — Foraging  Ants  — The  Tocandeiros  — 
A  fiery  ordeal  — The  Blind  Ant  — The  Green  Ant—  The  Driver 
Ant  — Bridges  of  Ants  —  The  Agricultural  Ant  .  .  .  .11 

ABOUT   BEES. 

HIVE  BEES  MAKING  AND  LAYING  WAX. 

HIVE  BEES  :  The  Bee  in  the  flower  —  At  the  hive  —  Making  wax  —  Lay- 
ing out  cells  —  Feeding  the  young  —  The  grub  becomes  a  pupa, 
then  a  bee  —  The  care  of  young  queens  —  Swarming  —  How  a 
new  queen  is  obtained  —  The  massacre  of  the  drones  —  Keeping 
the  hive  cool  —  How  the  honey  is  obtained  —  Bees  came  to 
America  from  Europe. 

CARPENTER  AND  MASON  BEES,  AND  THEIR  CELLS. 

SOLITARY  BEES:  Humble  Bees  —  The  mother- bee  founds  a  colony  — 
The  burrow  —  How  fitted  and  furnished  —  Its  population  — 
Huber's  experiment  —  The  Lapidary  Bee  —  The  Carder  Bee  — 
Cuckoo  Bees  — The  Carpea*er  Bee  — The  Upholsterer  Bee  — 
The  Mason  Bee  ...  .  41 


VI.  CONTENTS. 


ABOUT    SPIDERS. 

THE  GREAT  MYGALE,  My  gale  Cancerides. 

SPIDERS:  A  family  of  workers— Goldsmith's  Spider  — The  structure 
of  a  Spider  —  How  it  spins  —  The  Garden  Spider's  Web  — 
Watching  for  prey  —  The  Nephila  Plumipes  —  The  House  Spi- 
der—The Trap-door  Spider  — The  Mygale  — The  Tarantula  — 
The  Water  Spider  — How  it  takes  air  underwater  —  The  Raft 
Spider  —  Gossamer  —  Care  for  eggs  and  young  —  Feeding  Spi- 
ders—  Bruce's  Spider 75 

ABOUT  DRAGON  -FLIES. 

WINGED  ANT-LION,  Myrmelto  Ubelluloides. 

DBAGON-FLIES  :  Born  in  the  water  —  The  change  to  a  winged  insect  — 
How  the  larva  moves  in  the  water  —  Multiple  eyes— Scorpion 
flies  —  Lace-wings  —  The  Ant-lion  —  Its  pit-fall  —  The  May-fly. 

SECTION  OF  TERMITES'  NEST. 

TERMITES  :  Akin  to  Dragon-Flies  —  Their  buildings  —  Underground 
roads  —  Founding  a  colony  —  Repairing  breaches  —  The  destruc- 
tion they  cause  —  Imported  into  France 99 


ABOUT  WASPS. 

A  WASP'S  NEST,  Outside  and  Inside. 


WASPS  :  Watching  a  Wasp's  nest  —  How  it  is  filled  with  comb  — Wasps* 
fondness  for  flies  —  An  immense  nest —  The  Chartergus  Wasp  — 
The  Afyrapetra  —  The  Mud-wasp  — A  Wasp  in  trouble  — Don 
and  the  Mud-wasps  —  The  Yellow  Wasp 125 


ABOUT   LOCUSTS. 

THE  MIGRATORY  LOCUST  ;  GRASSHOPPER  LAYING  EGGS. 

LOCUSTS:     Terribly    destructive  —  Described    by  the    Prophet    Joel  — 

Locusts  used  for  food  —  The  young  Locust  —  The  Katy-did. 
THE  HUNTER  FAY 143 


CONTENTS.  Vll 


ABOUT    MOSQUITOES. 

TRANSFORMATIONS  OF  THE  MOSQUITO. 


MOSQUITOES:  The  Mosquito  a  nuisance  —  How  to  protect  one's  self 
from  it  — Torture  by  Mosquitoes— Smudge-fires— Laying  eggs 

—  The  larva —  The  pupa  —  The  last  change  —  How  the  Mosquito 
bores. 

BRYAKT'S  MOSQUITO 15? 

ABOUT  BEETLES. 

THE  SCARABEUS  BEETLE. 

BEETLES:  Mailed  warriors — Some  injurious,  others  beneficent  —  The 
Burying  Beetle  —  The  Dor  Beetle  —  The  Goliath  —  The  May- 
bug  —  The  Rose-chafer  —  Stag  Beetles  —  Borers  —  Curculios  — 
The  Pine-weevil  —  The  Wheat-weevil  —  The  Pea-bug  —  The  Yel- 
low striped  bug  —  Lady-birds  —  Tiger  Beetles  —  Water  Beetles 
Cucuyos  —  Cantharides 171 

ABOUT   BUTTERFLIES, 

THE  AMPHRISIUS  BUTTERFLY,  CATERPILLAR,  AND  CHRYSALIS. 

BUTTERFLIES:  Caterpillars  not  really  ugly  —  They  do  injury  —  The 
worm  of  the  carrot-leaf — Changes  his  skin  —  His  structure  — 
How  he  walks — Eats — Spins  —  How  the  chrysalis  climbs  — 
COCOONS,  spun  —  Woven  of  hair  —  Made  in  the  ground  —  Re- 
paired when  broken — The  BUTTERFLY  appears  —  Its  glowing 
colors  —  Structure  —  Feeding  —  Laying  eggs  —  General  Classifi- 
cation of  Lepidoptera. 

How  TO  CATCH  AND  PRESERVE  BUTTERFLIES  :    The  net —  The  setting  box 

—  Pins — Permanent  cases  —  How  to  catch,  kill,  and  set  up  spe- 
cimens—  Care  of  Cocoons — The  Worm  case       .        .        .        .197 


AND  there's   never  a  leaf  nor  a  blade  too  mean 
To  be  some  happy  creature's  palace. 

Lowell. 


O  HAPPY  living  things!    no    tongue 
Their  beauty  might  declare: 
A   spring  of   love  gushed   from   my  heart, 
And  I  blessed   them   unaware. 

The  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner. 


ABOUT     A 


NTS. 


BRANCH— Articulate  —  Consisting  of  rings,  or  joints. 
CLASS — Insects  —  Having  bodies  divided  into  two  or  three  distinct  parts. 
•  ORDER  —  Hymenoptera  —  Having  membranous  wings. 
FAMILY — Formicaria  —  Ant  family. 


J0  you  ever  find  yourself,  some 
dreamy  summer  day,  with  no- 
thing to  do  ?  The  hot,  dense 
rays  of  the  July  sun  scorch  the 
dry  grass,  glow  in  the  burning 
sand,  and  almost  hiss  in  the 
water  of  the  idle  stream.  The 
birds  hide  in  the  dense  thickets, 
the  cattle  pant  in  the  shade,  and  the  very  dog 
wishes  he  could  take  his  jacket  off.  The  straw- 
berry leaves  crisp  in  the  heat,  and  rest  upon 


12  ABOUT  ANTS. 

the  ground ;  the  corn  curls  its  green  blades, 
and  turns  blue;  the  portulaccas  shut  their  cups; 
the  pansies  hang  their  heads ;  even  the  giant 
sunflower  droops  his  broad  leaves,  and  the  cab- 
bages perspire.  It  is  too  warm  to  work,  or  to 
read,  or  to  play.  The  boy  has  exhausted  all 
his  own  plans  for  fun,  and  in  despair  asks  his 
mother,  "  What  shall  I  do  ?" 

I'll  tell  you  what  to  do.  Find  an  ant-hill 
in  some  shady  place,  where  the  sun  will  not 
burn  your  back,  lie  down  upon  your  face,  and 
watch  it.  You  have  passed  such  a  thousand 
times,  without  knowing  what  curious  things 
could  be  seen  there.  The  little  fellows  worked 
all  the  morning,  and  brought  up  out  of  that 
hole  in  the  middle,  all  the  grains  of  sand  that 
you  see  piled  around  in  a  tiny,  circular  fortress. 
One  by  one  they  brought  them  out  and  laid 
them  in  their  places.  Now  they  are  thoroughly 
warmed  by  the  sun,  and  they  are  carrying 
them  back  again,  into  the  rooms  which  they 
have  excavated  below.  If  there  is  a  flat  stone 
near,  turn  it  over,  and  you  will  quite  likely 


THEIR  CITIES.  13 

find  a  much  busier  crowd.  A  large  chamber, 
with  many  winding  passages  running  hither 
and  thither,  and  connecting  with  each  other, 
and  with  other  passages  underneath,  has  been 
made,  like  the  public  square  and  the  thronged 
streets  of  an  old  fashioned  city.  It  is  not  like 
the  exact,  right-angled,  stiff,  modern  town,  but 
the  lanes  turn  in  and  out,  and  yet  go  on  with 
persevering  directness  towards  some  particular 
spot  which  was  not  down  in  the  original  plan, 
although  a  point  of  much  consequence.  Scat- 
tered all  along  the  thoroughfares  of  this  stone- 
canopied  town,  and  quite  plenty  in  the  grand 
square,  are  many  long,  round,  white  some- 
things, a  little  like  grains  of  wheat.  People 
have  mistaken  these  things  for  the  food  of  the 
ants,  and  so  have  written, 

"  The  little  ant,  for  one  poor  grain, 
Doth  tug,  and  toil,  and  strive." 

But  the  ants  lay  up  no  food.  They  need  none ; 
for  as  soon  as  the  hard  frosts  of  autumn  chill 
them,  they  lie  down  to  sleep  till  the  spring 


14  ABOUT  ANTS. 

wakes  them  again.  If  they  did  lay  up  food,  it 
would  not  be  grain,  for  the  ant  can  no  more 
eat  grain  than  a  man  can  eat  gold,  and  the  ant 
is  not  so  big  a  fool  as  to  hoard  what  he  can  not 
use. 

Others  have  thought  that  these  little  white 
sacks  are  the  eggs  of  the  ants ;  but  eggs  do 
not  grow,  and  surely  ants  can  not  lay  eggs  that 
are  larger  than  themselves.  "Whatever  they 
are,  the  ants  evidently  think  them  very  valua- 
ble. Away  they  go,  over  the  clumps  of  earth, 
and  through  the  tiny  streets,  as  if  to  see  what 
has  happened,  and  estimate  the  damage.  They 
don't  quite  understand  it,  but  they  are  agreed 
that  one  thing  is  to  be  done  forthwith  —  these 
precious  little  sacks  must  be  carried  in,  out  of 
danger.  So  each  grasps  the  nearest,  and  drags 
it  away  to  the  hole  in  the  centre,  the  gateway 
of  the  inner  town,  where  you  see  the  throng 
coming  out.  The  sack  is  larger  than  the  ant, 
but  he  seizes  it  resolutely,  and  raises  it  over 
his  head.  Away  he  creeps,  but  it  strikes 
that  block  of  sand  at  the  street  corner,  and 


THEIR  COCOON-SACKS.  1 5 

he  can  not  lift  it  over.  He  lays  it  down 
and  pulls  the  end  of  it  round;  that  obsta- 
cle is  past,  but  another  is  beyond.  A  second 
worker  comes,  and  the  two,  by  pulling  at  one 
end  and  lifting  at  the  other,  have  brought  it  to 
the  gate.  Surely  they  can  not  get  it  through 
that  narrow  and  crooked  passage.  One  has 
gone  below,  and  the  sack  shuts  him  from  sight. 
The  other  tugs  and  pulls.  It  will  not  move. 
Yes,  it  does ;  see  that  end  rise  in  the  air ;  now 
it  sinks-  in  the  hole ;  now  it  is  out  of  sight. 
But  here  comes  another,  arid  another.  All  are 
hurrying  to  the  numerous  stairways  to  the  city 
below,  and  in  a  short  time  all  will  have  van- 
ished. 

These  sacks  contain  the  young  ants.  The 
eggs  were  laid  by  the  queen,  and  hatched 
by  the  warmth  of  the  hot  grains  of  sand. 
The  grubs  were  fed,  and  grew,  and  finally 
shut  themselves  up  in  the  sacks,  as  the  cat- 
erpillar spins  a  cocoon,  or  the  beetle-grub 
sheds  his  coat  and  becomes  a  chrysalis.  Then 
the  ants  take  great  care  of  these  sacks.  They 


1 ABOUT  ANTS. 

are  very  precious  to  them  because  they  contain 
their  children.  If  the  air  is  damp  and  cold,  or 
the  rain  falls,  they  carry  them  down  into  the 
lower  rooms,  and  keep  them  warm.  If  the  sun 
is  warm  and  bright,  they  are  brought  where 
the  warmth  may  be  felt,  without  making  them 
too  dry.  If  they  happen  to  be  exposed,  we 
have  seen  how  they  are  hurried  to  a  place  of 
safety.  If  you  should  carefully  dig  down  into 
the  earth,  you  would  find  the  underground  city 
very  extensive,  the  long,  winding  galleries  lying 
tier  after  tier  beneath  each  other,  and  leading 
to  large  apartments,  where  the  ants  and  their 
children  find  room. 

Three  kinds  of  ants  come  out  of  these  cocoon- 
sacks.  There  are  males,  which  have  four 
wings ;  females,  which  are  much  larger,  and 
have  two  wings;  and  a  third  kind,  called  work- 
ers, or  nurse-ants,  which  have  no  wings.  After 
midsummer  the  several  kinds  may  often  be 
seen  very  busy  about  an  ant  hill,  the  winged 
ants  trying  to  get  away,  and  the  workers  bring- 
ing them  back  as  often  as  they  can  find  them. 


HO  W  THET FOUND  COLONIES.  1 7 

The  males  seem  to  be  worthless  fellows,  and 
soon  disappear.  They  have  no  sting  to  protect 
themselves  with,  and  no  jaws  to  help  them  get 
a  living. 

Some  of  the  females  are  caught  by  the  work- 
ers, and  taken  back  to  the  nest.  Others  wan- 
der away  with  a  few  followers  and  found  new 
colonies,  while  others  stray  away  by  themselves, 
going  out  into  the  wide  world  alone.  When 
one  alights,  she  examines  the  new  land  which 
she  has  discovered,  to  see  if  it  is  fit  for  a  home. 
If  she  is  satisfied,  she  turns  back  her  head,  bites 
off"  her  wings  at  the  shoulders,  and  settles  down 
for  life.  Her  wings  carried  her  from  her  moth- 
er's house  to  her  new  home,  and  henceforth  her 
journeying  is  ended.  Then  she  begins  to  hol- 
low out  a  chamber  for  herself.  Even  if  she  has 
workers  with  her,  she  continues  to  toil  until  she 
has  laid  eggs ;  then  she  is  recognized  and  hon- 
ored as  a  queen.  If  alone,  she  has  to  continue 
her  toil  until  the  young  from  her  own  eggs 
make  a  colony  about  her.  The  grubs,  when 
hatched,  are  fed  by  the  nurse-ants,  or  by  the 


i8 


ABOUT  ANTS. 


mother,  with  food  prepared  in  the  stomach, 
and  the  solitary  insect  has  much  to  do,  to  find 
food  for  herself  and  her  hungry  family. 

Ants  eat  various  substances,  particularly  such 
as  are  juicy,  or  contain  sugar.  They  kill  and 
eat  weaker  insects,  and  they  are  very  fond  of 
ripe,  sweet  fruit.  One  may  be  sure  they  will 
always  choose  the  best.  If  the  pioneers  can 
not  eat  the  whole  of  some  plunder  which  they 
have  found,  they  carry  away  what  they  can,  and 
then  bring  back  an  army  to  carry  off  the  rest. 
They  are  very  fond  of  a  substance  called  honey- 
dew.  Ants  are  often  seen  running  up  and 
down  the  trunks  of  trees,  even  when  there  is 
no  fruit  on  the  tree  to  tempt  them.  As  the 
trees  which  they  visit  are  often  sickly,  they  are 
supposed  to  do  some  injury.  They  are  not  at 
all  to  blame,  but  are  only  going  to  their  farms 
to  look  after  their  cattle.  The  leaves  arid  ten- 
der twigs  of  these  trees  will  be  found  to  be 
covered  with  small,  pale-green  insects,  called 
Aphides,  or  Plant-lice.  They  are  often  very 
closely  packed  upon  the  leaf  or  stem,  and  they 


THEIR  INDUSTRY.  *9 

do  harm  by  sucking  up  the  juices  of  the  grow- 
ing plant.  The  ant  comes  up  the  tree  to  his 
dairy  farm,  and  strokes  one  of  the  green  lice 
with  his  feeler;  the  louse  gives  out  a  single 
drop  of  clear  liquid,  which  the  ant  drinks. 
Then  he  goes  to  the  next,  and  so  on,  milking 
his  cows,  or  gathering  honey-dew.  When  he 
has  enough,  he  goes  back  to  his  work,  digging, 
building,  or  feeding  the  young  ants. 

The  working  ant  does  a  great  deal  of  work 
in  a  day.  M.  Huber,  a  French  naturalist,  gives 
an  account  of  a  single  day's  work  of  one  ant. 
The  insect  first  dug  in  the  earth  a  groove  or 
road,  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch  deep  and  four 
inches  long.  The  dirt  which  he  took  out,  he 
kneaded  into  pellets,  and  placed  on  each  side 
of  his  road,  to  make  a  wall.  When  this  road 
was  finished,  very  smooth  and  straight,  he 
found  that  another  was  wanted,  and  he  made 
that  in  the  same  manner,  and  about  the  same 
size.  A  man,  to  have  done  as  much  in  propor- 
tion to  his  size,  must  have  dug  two  ditches, 
each  four  and  a  half  feet  deep,  and  seventy-two 


20  ABOUT  ANTS. 

feet  long ;  he  must  have  made  the  clay  into 
bricks,  and  laid  them  up  in  walls  on  each  side 
of  the  ditches,  two  to  three  feet  high  and  fifteen 
inches  thick.  He  must  have  gone  over  it  all 
and  made  it  straight  and  smooth;  and  must 
have  made  it  alone,  in  ground  full  of  logs  and 
stones. 

The  Brown  Ants,  F.  brunnea,  are  both  miners 
and  builders.  They  work  either  at  night  or  in 
damp  weather,  because  the  sunshine  dries  their 
mortar  too  fast.  They  build  a  house  of  many 
stories,  sometimes  twenty  or  thirty.  Each  story 
is  about  a  fifth  of  an  inch  high,  supported  by 
many  partitions  and  pillars.  In  wet  weather 
they  take  the  family  into  the  upper  rooms ;  in 
dry  weather  they  occupy  the  middle  or  the  lower 
floors.  While  building,  they  work  the  damp 
clay  in  their  jaws  until  the  pellets  are  compact, 
and  will  adhere  firmly ;  then  they  press  them 
tightly  against  the  tops  of  the  partitions  which 
they  have  made.  As  fast  as  one  row  of  bricks 
has  dried,  another  row  is  added  ;  thus  they  will 
lay  a  perfectly  smooth  and  strong  ceiling  two 


CARPENTERS.  21 

inches  in  diameter.  When  these  walls  are  fin- 
ished, the  rain  and  sun  seem  only  to  make 
them  harder.  If  a  stick  or  straw  is  in  their 
way,  they  at  once  make  a  beam  or  a  post  of  it. 
If  a  post,  they  cover  it  with  mortar  until  it  is 
thick  and  strong  enough  for  their  work.  If  a 
beam,  they  build  their  ceiling  against  and 
around  it.  If  a  room  is  too  large,  they  build 
partitions,  and  divide  it  into  smaller  rooms  of 
suitable  size. 

Other  Ants  are  carpenters.  They  often  re- 
move so  much  of  a  log  of  wood  as  to  leave  it  a 
mere  honey-comb,  pierced  through  and  through 
in  every  direction  with  their  passages.  The 
walls  between  are  often  as  thin  as  paper,  and 
yet  are  never  broken  through  except  where  one 
passage  crosses  another.  They  can  not  know 
how  to  cut  so  near  another  passage  by  sight, 
for  all  is  done  in  the  dark ;  they  can  not  plan 
or  measure,  as  a  reasoning  being  would  do; 
and  yet  they  do  their  work  with  greater  deli- 
cacy and  accuracy  than  the  man  who  reasons 
and  measures.  For  some  unexplained  cause, 


ABOUT  ANTS. 

the  wood  through  which  they  cut  is  all  colored 
black,  as  if  the  fire  had  passed  through  it. 

When  these  black  carpenters  get  into  a 
dwelling,  they  cause  a  deal  of  trouble.  They 
make  themselves  at  home  in  the  very  wood-- 
work of  the  house.  They  gnaw  a  way  into  any 
wooden  box  which  they  wish  to  explore,  and 
will  find  the  least  crevice  into  the  sugar-box  or 
cake-jar.  The  prudent  housewife  puts  her  pot 
of  sweetmeats  in  a  pan  of  water,  but  if  the  ants 
know  what  the  jar  contains,  they  will  find  a 
way  to  it,  even  if  they  crawl  upon  the  shelf 
above,  and  drop  down  upon  it.  The  family 
may  be  almost  exterminated,  and  yet,  if  two  or 
three  be  left,  with  all  the  resources  of  the  nest 
at  their  command,  in  a  little  time  the  plagues 
are  as  thick  as  ever.  Moreover,  they  bite. 

Some  tribes  of  Ants  are  very  warlike,  and 
they  make  war  to  capture  the  workers  of  other 
tribes,  and  obtain  slaves  for  their  own  commu- 
nities. It  is  said  that  the  kidnappers  are  always 
pale  or  red  Ants,  and  that  the  captured  slaves 
are  black.  When  the  red  Ants  are  about  to 


THEIR    WARFARE.  23 

make  a  foray,  they  send  scouts  to  explore  the 
ground,  who  afterwards  return  and  report  their 
success.  They  then  march  forth  in  regular 
armies.  The  assailed  town  pours  out  its  inhab- 
itants, and  the  fight  begins.  Head  to  head, 
foot  to  foot,  jaw  to  jaw,  the  sable  warriors  de- 
fend their  homes  and  their  children,  but  in 
vain.  The  victory  is  always  with  the  invaders. 
They  do  not  drive  out  their  conquered  foes, 
but  they  break  into  their  homes  and  carry 
away  the  cocoons  of  the  workers.  The  red 
ants  return  in  perfect  order  to  their  own  city, 
bearing  with  them  their  living  burdens.  They 
treat  the  plundered  young  with  the  same  care 
they  give  their  own,  and  the  ants  produced 
from  the  stolen  cocoons  seem  to  work  with 
abundant  energy  and  good  will.  The  inhabit- 
ants of  the  besieged  city,  knowing  what  result 
will  follow  the  fight,  often  carry  away  many  of 
their  young.  They  take  them  to  the  tops  of 
the  grass  stems,  and  hide  them  amid  the  foliage 
of  other  plants.  When  the  raid  is  over,  they 
bring  them  back  to  the  nest  again.  Several 


24  ABOUT  ANTS. 

kinds  of  ants  practice  this  kind  of  warfare,  and 
the  results  are  too  well  attested  by  careful 
observers  to  admit  of  doubt. 

Although  there  are  many  kinds,  and  count- 
less numbers  of  Ants  in  the  cooler  countries  of 
the  temperate  zone,  they  are  far  surpassed  in 
number,  in  size,  and  in  venomous  power,  by 
those  found  in  the  hot  lands  of  the  torrid  zone. 
Here  all  kinds  of  reptile  and  of  insect  life  seem 
to  be  extravagantly  developed,  and  the  ants  are 
often  so  numerous  and  so  powerful  as  to  drive 
away  every  other  living  thing. 

The  Saiiba  or  Coushie  Ant,  CEcodoma  cepha- 
lotes,  lives  in  South  America.  It  is  often  called 
the  Parasol  Ant.  Large  columns  may  be  seen 
marching  along,  each  carrying  in  its  jaws,  and 
over  its  head,  a  round  piece  of  leaf,  about  the 
size  of  a  dime.  Many  suppose  that  this  is  actu- 
ally carried  to  keep  off  the  heat  of  the  sun; 
but  the  fact  is  that  they  use  the  leaves  to 
thatch  the  roofs  of  their  houses,  and  to  keep 
the  loose  earth  from  falling  in.  They  choose 
the  leaves  of  cultivated  trees,  as  the  orange  and 


THE  SAUBA  ANTS.  25 

the  coffee.  When  they  attack  a  tree,  they  strip 
it  of  foliage  so  entirely,  that  it  often  dies.  Then 
they  march  away  with  their  plunder,  and  fling 
it  on  the  ground,  at  the  nest.  Another  party 
of  workers  take  up  the  pieces,  and  put  them 
upon  the  roof,  covering  them  with  dirt.  These 
domed  houses  are  wonderfully  large,  measuring 
sometimes  two  feet  in  height,  and  forty  feet  in 
diameter.  Their  underground  cities  are  on 
even  a  larger  scale.  The  smoke  of  burning 
sulphur  blown  into  one  opening  has  been  found 
to  come  out  at  another,  more  than  two  hundred 
feet  away. 

There  are  three  kinds  of  these  ants:  the 
winged,  the  large  headed  —  sometimes  called 
soldiers,  and  the  workers.  The  large  headed 
are  also  of  two  sorts :  one  kind  has  a  smooth 
helmet,  covered  with  horny  substance,  which 
one  can  almost  see  through,  and  the  other 
wears  a  dark  helmet,  covered  with  hairs.  The 
business  of  these  large-heads  is  not  very  well 
understood.  The  smooth  helmets  seem  to  do 
nothing  but  walk  about.  They  do  not  fight; 


26  ABOUT  ANTS. 

they  do  not  work;  they  do  not  appear  to  over- 
look those  which  do  work.  The  hairy-helmets 
are  not  known  to  do  any  more.  If  the  top  of 
one  of  the  mounds  be  taken  off,  a  circular  well 
will  be  found  in  the  centre,  into  which  a  stick 
three  or  four  feet  long  may  be  thrust,  without 
touching  bottom.  Presently  some  of  these 
hairy-headed  fellows,  each  wearing  one  eye 
in  the  middle  of  its  forehead,  like  a  fabled 
Cyclops,  will  come  slowly  up  the  smooth  sides 
of  the  well,  to  see  what  is  wanted.  But  they 
are  not  very  pugnacious,  and  may  easily  be 
caught  by  the  fingers. 

The  winged  ants  are  the  perfect  males  and 
females.  They  come  out  a  little  after  midsum- 
mer, that  is  in  February.  The  females  have 
bodies  about  as  large  as  hornets,  and  spread 
their  wings  nearly  two  inches.  The  males  are 
much  smaller.  Although  hosts  pour  out  of  the 
nests,  few  remain  after  a  day,  for  the  birds  and 
insect  eating  animals  have  devoured  most  of 
them.  Those  which  escape  found  new  colo- 
nies in  spite  of  all  the  dangers  which  threaten 


FORAGING  ANTS.  2  7 

to  destroy  them;  even  the  art  of  man  can  not 
conquer  them. 

Among  the  South  American  Ants  are  several 
species  which  are  classed  together,  and  called- 
Foraging  Ants.  They  belong  to  the  genus 
Eciton.  They  have  been  confounded  with  the 
Saiiba  Ants,  just  described,  but  their  habits  are 
quite  different.  The  real  Foraging  Ant,  E.  dre- 
panephora,  is  very  annoying,  and  very  useful. 
These  insects  go  out  from  their  cities  in  im- 
mense armies,  not  very  broad,  but  often  a  hun- 
dred yards  long.  Officers  march  beside  the 
column,  very  busy  keeping  their  own  portion 
of  the  line  in  order.  There  is  an  officer  to 
about  twenty  privates ;  their  white  heads  nod- 
ding up  and  down  make  them  quite  conspicu- 
ous. The  pittas,  or  ant  thrushes,  always  accom- 
pany these  armies,  picking  up  the  Ants  for  their 
own  food;  but  still  the  band  goes  marching  on. 
The  people  know  that  the  Ants  are  on  the  war 
path,  and  make  every  preparation  for  their 
reception. 

In  those  countries,  insects  of  every  kind  gel 


28  ABOUT  ANTS. 

into  the  houses,  and  multiply  to  an  extent 
which  almost  drives  the  inhabitants  from  their 
homes.  By  day  they  are  a  trouble,  and  by 
night  a  pest.  They  bite,  and  suck,  and  scratch, 
and  sting.  They  crawl  over  the  food;  they 
hide  in  the  bed;  they  fly  into  the  lamp,  and 
then  whirl  on  the  table ;  they  creep  into  the 
ink;  they  emit  horrible  smells.  There  are 
centipedes  which  sting,  and  scorpions  which 
Bting.  There  are  cockroaches  of  powerful  size 
and  smell,  and  of  insatiable  appetite.  As  for 
snakes  and  lizards,  and  other  creeping  things, 
they  are  too  common  to  be  noticed.  It  is  of 
no  use  to  fight.  Your  enemies  are  legions  of 
numbers  innumerable.  But  when  the  Forag- 
ing Ants  come,  the  case  is  altered,  for  nothing 
can  stand  their  attack.  When  the  pittas  come 
about,  the  people  open  every  box  and  drawer  in 
the  house,  so  as  to  allow  the  ants  to  explore 
every  crevice,  and  then  they  vacate  the  prem- 
ises. 

"  Presently  a  few  scouts,  which  form  the  van- 
guard of  the  grand  army,*  approach,  and  seem 


RAIDS  UPON  VERMTN.  2$ 

to  inspect  the  house,  to  se6  if  it  is  worthy  of  a 
visit.  The  long  column  then  pours  in  and  dis- 
perses over  the  dwelling.  They  enter  every 
crevice,  and  speedily  haul  out  any  unfortunate 
creature  which  is  hidden  therein.  Great  cock- 
roaches are  dragged  unwillingly  away,  being 
pulled  in  front  by  four  or  five  ants,  and  pushed 
from  behind  by  as  many  more.  The  rats  and 
mice  speedily  succumb  to  the  onslaught  of  their 
myriad  foes,  the  snakes  and  the  lizards  fare  no 
better,  and  even  the  formidable  weapons  of  the 
centipedes  and  scorpions  are  overcome. 

"In  a  wonderfully  short  time  the  Foraging 
Ants  have  done  their  work,  the  turmoil  gradu- 
ally ceases,  the  scattered  parties  again  form 
into  line,  and  the  army  moves  out  of  the  house, 
carrying  its  spoils  in  triumph.  When  the  in- 
habitants return,  they  find  every  intruder  gone, 
and  to  their  great  comfort  may  move  about 
without  treading  on  some  unfortunate  creature, 
or  put  on  their  shoes  without  knocking  them 
on  the  floor  to  shake  out  a  scorpion  or  a  centi- 
pede." 


3°  ABOUT  ANTS. 

But  those  who  are  accustomed  to  the  country 
are  careful  to  keep  out  of  the  way.  If  a  man 
should  happen  to  cross  the  column,  the  ants  at 
once  dash  at  him,  climb  up  his  legs,  and  bite 
with  their  powerful  and  poisonous  jaws.  His 
only  safety  is  in  running  away  until  the  main 
army  is  too  far  off  to  renew  the  attack,  and 
then  destroying  those  which  he  has  brought  with 
him.  This  is  not  easy,  for  the  Ants  have  long, 
hooked  jaws,  and  bite  so  fiercely  that  they  may 
be  pulled  away  piecemeal,  leaving  the  jaws  in 
the  wound  to  be  picked  out  separately. 

Another  species,  E.  prcedator,  marches  in 
broad,  solid  mass.  It  is  a  little  creature,  like 
our  common  red  ant,  but  much  brighter  col- 
ored, making  the  trunk  of  a  tree  upon  which 
many  climb  look  as  if  smeared  with  a  blood-red 
liquid. 

This  little  red  ant  is  exceedingly  venomous : 
its  bite  brings  a  quenchless,  burning  sensa- 
tion, whence  the  Brazilians  call  it  "fire  ant" 
The  South  American  Indians  require  their 
young  men  to  undergo  the  ordeal  of  the  Tocan- 


A  FIER  T  ORDEAL.  3 1 

deiros,  or  fire-ants,  before  they  can  be  known 
as  warriors,  or  recognized  as  braves.  A  pair 
of  mittens  are  made  of  the  bark  of  the  palm 
tree,  long  enough  to  cover  the  arms  above  the 
elbows,  and  are  filled  with  the  Tocandeiros. 
The  candidate  for  warlike  honor  must  put  his 
hands  into  these  bags  of  living  fire,  and  wear 
them  while  he  makes  the  round  of  the  village, 
and  dances  a  jig  at  every  pause.  During  this 
march  he  must  wear  a  smiling  face,  and  chant 
a  kind  of  song  so  loud  as  to  be  heard  above  all 
the  noise  his  companions  may  make  upon  rude 
horns  and  drums.  He  must  not,  by  word, 
action,  or  look,  show  any  sign  of  the  torture 
which  he  endures;  if  he  should,  he  will  be  the 
ridicule  of  his  tribe,  and  even  the  maidens  will 
refuse  to  know  him.  When  the  round  of  the 
village  is  complete,  he  must  pause  before  the 
chief  with  swifter  dance,  and  louder  chant, 
until  he  falls  from  exhaustion,  and  the  burning 
gauntlets  are  removed.  Then  he  has  won  his 
right  to  carry  a  spear  with  his  tribe. 

A  species,  E.  legionis,  attacks   the  nests  of 


32  ABOUT  ANTS. 

some  of  the  large  burrowing  ants.  They 
arrange  themselves  for  this  purpose  into  two 
bands ;  one  set  dig  into  the  ground  and  take 
out  pellets  of  earth,  while  the  others  receive 
the  pellets  and  carry  them  away.  They  will 
thus  sink  a  hole  ten  or  twelve  inches,  and 
always  succeed  in  opening  the  nest.  The  ma- 
terials they  pull  to  pieces  and  carry  home,  as 
well  as  the  inmates.  The  community  is  in 
wonderful  discipline.  Each  ant  knows  his 
place,  and  attends  to  his  business. 

The  species  E.  erratica,  is  blind.  The  eyes 
of  the  other  varieties  are  very  small,  but  in  the 
Blind  Ant  they  are  absolutely  wanting,  not 
showing  even  a  trace.  They  have,  however, 
some  means  of  knowing  light  from  darkness, 
for  they  are  very  uneasy  when  brought  into  the 
light. 

They  are  wonderful  builders,  constructing 
long  galleries  through  which  they  travel.  If  a 
gallery  be  broken  into,  the  soldiers  are  seen 
slowly  coming  out,  and  opening  their  large 
jaws  as  if  they  would  bite  something.  If  not 


THE  DRIVER  ANTS.  33 

disturbed,  they  retire  into  the  gallery,  and  soon 
the  workers  come  and  repair  the  breach. 
These  galleries  are  built  upon  the  surface  of 
the  earth,  and  do  not  penetrate  the  soil.  .t 

Some  Ants  make  their  nests  in  trees,  hang- 
ing them  from  the  boughs,  like  the  wasps. 
One  of  these  carries  its  abdomen  in  the  air, 
hanging  over  its  back,  and  has  acquired  the 
uncouth  \\ameCrcmatogaster,  or  "hanging-belly." 
Another  is  called  by  travelers  the  Green  Ant, 
(Ecophylla  virescens.  The  name  signifies  a 
house  and  a  leaf,  and  is  given  because  it  makes 
its  hanging  nest  of  dried  leaves.  When  dis- 
turbed, the  Ants  come  pattering  down  upon 
the  man  below  like  rain-drops,  seeking  for 
spots  which  they  can  wound,  and  having  a 
special  faculty  for  finding  their  way  down  the 
neck. 

A  tribe  of  Ants  somewhat  similar  to  the 
Ecitons  of  South  America,  is  found  in  Africa, 
and  is  called  Bashi  Kouay,  or  Driver  Ant, 
Anomma  arcens.  It  is  the  dread  of  all  animals, 
from  the  leopard  to  the  smallest  insect.  It 


34  ABOUT  ANTS. 

marches  through  the  forest  in  lines  about  two 
inches  broad,  and  of  incredible  length.  One 
writer  asserts  that  he  has  seen  a  column  of 
these  insects  continue  passing  a  single  point, 
at  good  speed,  for  twelve  hours.  Officers 
march  along  the  line  and  maintain  order.  If 
the  advance  guard  come  to  an  open  place,  not 
shaded  by  trees,  they  build  a  covered  way,  or 
tunnel,  of  dirt  moistened  with  their  saliva.  If 
there  are  sticks  and  leaves  on  the  ground,  they 
fill  up  only  the  spaces  which  are  exposed,  for 
the  direct  rays  of  the  sun  kill  them  very 
quickly.  If  a  stream  crosses  their  path,  they 
make  a  bridge  of  themselves,  over  which  the 
whole  pass.  First  a  single  Ant  swings  himself 
from  the  branch  of  a  tree  which  overhangs  the 
water.  Then  another  crawls  over  him,  and 
hangs  from  his  feet.  Others  follow  until  a 
living  chain  is  formed  which  reaches  to  the 
water,  and  rests  upon  it.  Then  the  wind 
or  the  current  wafts  the  free  end  of  the  chain 
about  until  it  touches  the  opposite  shore,  and 
the  crossing  is  complete.  If  one  chain  bridge 


BRIDGES  OF  ANTS.  35 

is  insufficient,  others  are  made  alongside.  It 
is  asserted  that  the  bridge  is  even  made  tubu- 
lar, and  that  the  army  marches  through  it. 

When  the  Ants  get  hungry,  the  long  line 
stops  marching  by  the  flank,  as  soldiers  would 
say,  that  is,  following  each  other  in  line,  and 
moves  like  an  army  in  line  of  battle,  devouring 
every  thing  in  its  way.  The  black  men  run 
for  their  lives.  In  a  very  short  time  a  mouse, 
a  dog,  a  leopard,  or  even  a  deer,  is  overrun, 
killed,  -eaten,  and  only  the  bones  are  left. 
When  they  enter  a  house,  they  clear  it  of  every 
living  thing.  If  a  fowl  is  the  victim,  they  dig 
out  the  feathers  by  the  roots,  and  then  pull  the 
flesh  to  pieces,  fastening  their  strong  pincers 
into  it,  and  never  failing  to  bring  away  the 
piece. 

A  white  hunter  killed  an  antelope,  and 
brought  it  to  a  native  village.  In  the  night 
he  felt  himself  terribly  bitten,  and  roused  his 
attendants.  The  whole  village  was  attacked  by 
a  column  of  the  Bashi  Kouay,  w^hich  was 
attracted  by  the  smell  of  the  meat.  The 


3  ABOUT  ANTS. 

natives  protected  themselves  by  making  circles 
of  fire  and  standing  inside.  Before  morning 
the  insects  had  eaten  every  thing  they  could 
get,  and  had  traveled  on. 

During  the  abundant  tropical  rains  the  Drivers 
run  together  and  form  themselves  into  balls,  vary- 
ing in  size,  but  usually  about  as  large  as  those 
used  in  the  game  of  ball.  These  balls  of  ants 
float  upon  the  water  until  the  land  appears 
again,  and  the  insects  can  go  about  their  busi- 
ness. The  natives  try  to  destroy  them  by  mak- 
ing fires  over  and  about  their  nests.  This  does 
not  accomplish  much,  for  the  cunning  ants 
escape  before  the  heat  becomes  too  great,  and 
will  be  found  hanging  in  festoons  upon  the 
neighboring  trees,  and  crossing  from  one  to 
another  by  their  chain  bridges. 

These  ants  are  black,  with  a  tinge  of  red. 
They  have  enormous  heads,  equaling  about 
one  third  of  their  entire  length.  The  jaws  are 
sharply  curved,  and  cross  each  other  when 
closed,  so  that  if  the  ant  has  fixed  itself,  its 
hold  can  not  be  loosened  unless  the  jaws  are 


AGRICULTURAL  ANTS.  37 

opened.      It    has    no    appearance   of   external 
eyes. 

Dr.  Lincecum  has  observed  an  Ant  in  Texas, 
which  has  been  called  the  Agricultural  Ant, 
Alia  malefaciem.  When  this  species  has  fixed 
its  home  in  good  dry  ground,  it  bores  a  cen- 
tral hole,  about  which  it  raises  the  surface  per- 
haps six  inches,  making  a  low  mound,  which 
gently  slopes  to  the  outer  edge.  If  the  spot  be 
wet,  the  mound  is  raised  higher,  and  is  even 
fifteen  or  twenty  inches  high.  The  space  about 
the  mound  is  carefully  cleaned  and  smoothed 
like  a  pavement.  Nothing  is  allowed  to  grow 
in  this  circle,  two  or  three  feet  from  the  centre, 
except  a  single  species  of  grass.  This  grass 
the  ants  tend  with  the  greatest  care,  cutting 
away  the  weeds  within  and  about  it.  It  thrives 
under  their  culture,  and  bears  a  crop  of  seed 
which  resembles,  under  the  microscope,  minia- 
ture rice.  When  ripe,  it  is  carefully  harvested, 
arid  carried  into  the  cells,  where  it  is  cleaned 
of  the  chaff,  and  packed  away.  If  the  grain 
gets  moist  in  damp  weather,  it  is  taken  out  and 


3  ABOUT  ANTS. 

dried  on  the  first  fair  day,  and  the  sound  ker- 
nels are  carried  back  again  ;  those  which  have 
sprouted  are  thrown  away.  Since  men  have 
made  farms  in  that  country,  and  the  cattle  have 
eaten  down  the  ant-rice,  thus  spoiling  their 
crop,  the  ants  have  either  abandoned  the  pas- 
tures, or  those  communities  have  perished. 
They  may  be  found  in  places  where  the  cattle 
can  not  get  at  their  crop  of  grain. 

Dr.  Lincecum  is  confident,  after  twelve  years' 
observation,  that  these  ants  plant  the  grain, 
take  care  of  it,  harvest  it,  and  keep  seed  for 
another  sowing.  Each  year  the  crop  of  ant- 
rice  is  found  growing  about  their  cities,  and 
not  a  blade  of  any  other  green  thing  can  bo 
found  within  twelve  inches  of  this  grain. 


HIVE    BEES    MAKING    AND  LAYING    WAX. 

A,  Qjieen  Bee;  B,  Male;  C,  Worker;  D,  Bees  clustering  to  make  Wax;  E,  Bees 
Laying  and  Sculpturing  Wax;  F,  Comb,  with  Empty,  Full,  and  Queen  Cells. 


CARPENTER  AND  MASON  BEES,  AND  THEIR  CELLS. 

B,  Mason  Bee;  D,  Cells  of  the  Mason  Bee;  C,  Carpenter  Bee;  A,  F,  Cells  of  Car- 
penter Bee;  E,  Comb  of  Humble  Bees. 


ABOUT    BEES. 


ARTICULATA. —  INSBCTA. 

ORDER  —  ffymenoptera  —  Membrane-winged, 

FAMILY  —  Apidm  —  Bee  family. 


the  summer  days,  among  the 
white  clover  heads,  we  find  a 
bright,  busy,  buzzing  Bee.  He 
runs  quickly  over  the  round  white 
bouquet,  and  thrusts  his  long 
tongue  deep  into  every  floweret. 
He  tastes  of  each,  and  then,  with 
cheery  hum,  visits  another  and 
another  flower.  In  a  little  time  he  has  gath- 
ered his  sweet  freight.  He  rises  in  the  air, 
circles  about  for  an  instant,  and  then  dashes 
away  in  the  straightest  of  bee-lines  to  his  home. 


42  ABOUT  BEES. 

Another  is  searching  the  larkspur.  A  third  is 
working  at  the  snapdragon,  the  "  frogs-mouth  " 
of  the  children.  Now  he  kicks  against  the 
lower  lip  of  the  gay  corolla.  It  opens,  and  in 
he  goes,  while  the  door  shuts  after  him.  Pres- 
ently it  opens  again,  the  Bee  creeps  out,  goes  to 
another,  and  vanishes  in  that.  A  fourth  is 
making  the  round  of  the  cucumber  vines. 
Down  he  goes  into  the  golden  cup,  round  the 
sculptured  pillar  at  the  bottom,  and  out  again, 
dusty  with  yellow  pollen.  He  descends  into  a 
second  cup,  and  as  he  rubs  his  way  round  that 
column,  carved  with  a  different  device,  he  leaves 
a  little  of  the  golden  dust  to  give  vitality  to  the 
tiny  cucumber  at  the  base  of  the  flower.  If 
there  were  no  Bees,  the  cucumbers  and  squashes 
would  not  grow. 

Hear  the  gentle  hum  among  the  pale,  grace- 
ful clusters  of  locust  blossoms,  which  burden 
the  air  with  their  oppressive  sweetness.  The 
buckwheat  field  resounds  with  the  busy  mur- 
mur. They  visit  the  honeysuckles  and  the 
morning-glories,  the  clematis  and  the  violets, 


GATHERING  POLLEN.  43 

the  lilies,  the  pea-blossoms,  the  scarlet-runners, 
and  all  the  multitude  of  flowers  that  provide 
honey  in  their  fragrant  cups. 

Before  that  fellow  which  explored  the  cucum- 
ber blossoms  went  home,  he  rested  on  a  twig 
and  scraped  himself  all  over  with  his  feet.  He 
cleaned  off  every  particle  of  the  yellow  pollen 
which  had  gathered  upon  his  velvet  coat,  and 
put  his  jacket  in  the  nicest  order.  Little 
dandy,  is  he  ?  Not  at  all.  He  is  only  neat ; 
and  besides,  the  dust  was  partly  what  he  came 
for.  He  kneaded  it  together,  rolled  it  up  care- 
fully in  a  ball,  and  tucked  it  away  in  his  trou- 
sers pocket.  Not  just  that,  either,  but  in  a  hol- 
low inside  his  thigh,  made  on  purpose  for  that 
kind  of  load,  and  lined  with  bristly  hairs  to 
keep  the  little  yellow  packet  from  falling  out. 
One  may  often  be  seen  with  his  two  thighs 
loaded  down,  while  he  is  still  gathering  his 
supply  of  honey. 

Behind  the  house,  under  a  little  shed  in  the 
thicket  of  locusts  and  cinnamon  roses,  is  the 
Bee's  home.  When  his  ancestors  took  care  of 


44  ABOUT  BEES. 

themselves,  they  made  their  comb  and  stored 
their  honey  in  the  hollow  of  some  old  tree ; 
they  ate  it  themselves,  unless  the  bears  climbed 
the  tree  and  took  a  share.  Now  the  careful 
farmer  provides  a  snug,  clean  box  for  each 
swarm,  and  pays  himself  from  their  stores. 

You  may  stand  near  and  watch  them,  if  you 
will  be  quiet,  and  have  not  made  yourself  offen- 
sive to  the  Bees  with  some  strong  perfume. 
Their  sense  of  smell  is  very  acute,  and  many 
perfumes  make  them  very  cross.  If  you  find 
that  one  begins  to  circle  round  your  head  with 
a  sharp,  rasping  buzz,  quite  unlike  the  genial 
hum  of  those  which  are  coming  and  going,  and 
particularly  if  you  find  that  two  or  three  join 
in  the  song,  and  fly  in  the  same  curve,  you  had 
better  go  without  ceremony.  In  an  instant 
more  you  may  expect  them  to  dash  in  your 
face  and  sting  you,  and  that  a  score  of  angry 
bees  will  follow  their  example.  But  you  may 
usually  approach  without  fear,  and  will  find  a 
busy  community  —  "  busy  as  bees." 

A  hive  of  Bees  contains  a  queen,  a  few  huri- 


MAKING   WAX.  45 

dred  drones,  and  may  have  15,000  or  20,000 
workers.  The  workers  are  those  we  have  seen 
gathering  honey  and  pollen.  They  are  about 
half  an  inch  long,  nearly  black,  and  are  armed 
with  a  straight  sting.  The  drones  are  about 
five-eighths  of  an  inch  long,  and  are  thicker 
and  clumsier  than  the  workers.  They  have  no 
sting.  The  queen  is  more  than  three-fourths 
of  an  inch  long,  slender  and  graceful;  she  has 
a  curved  sting. 

When  a  swarm  of  Bees  are  newly  settled  in 
a  hive,  their  first  business  is  to  commence 
building.  A  part  clean  out  the  hive,  while 
most  go  to  the  fields  for  honey  and  pollen. 
This  latter  they  work  into  a  substance  called 
propolis,  with  which  they  glue  the  wax  to  the 
roof  of  the  hive,  and  stop  up  all  crevices  which 
might  admit  cold,  or  insects.  The  wax  is  pro- 
duced by  the  Bees  themselves.  Those  which 
return  from  the  fields  hang  themselves  from 
the  top  of  the  hive  in  bunches,  festoons,  ropes, 
and  other  fantastic  forms,  and  remain  quiet  for 
about  twenty-four  hours.  During  this  time  the 


4  ABOUT  BEES. 

wax  exudes  between  the  rings  of  the  bodies  of 
the  Bees,  eight  little  scales  coming  out  on 
each  side.  One  leaves  the  festoon,  goes  to  the 
top  of  the  hive,  and  drives  away  the  others 
from  the  spot  where  it  would  begin.  It  then 
takes  from  itself  one  of  the  scales  of  wax,  chews 
it  to  make  it  pliable,  and  sticks  it  against 
the  roof  of  the  hive.  When  it  has  thus  used 
all  its  wax,  another  takes  the  place,  and  lays 
more  wax.  While  one  works  in  one  direction, 
another  works  in  the  opposite  direction.  Soon 
a  thin  partition  begins  to  hang  down,  which 
will  separate  the  ends  of  the  two  rows  of  cells 
that  meet  in  the  middle  of  the  comb.  When 
the  two  Bees  working  opposite  to  each  other 
leave  room  between  them,  a  third  begins  to  cut 
out  a  hollow  in  one  side  of  the  partition,  and 
presently  two  others  begin  to  hollow  on  the 
opposite  side.  As  fast  as  the  wax  layers  extend 
the  partition  and  make  room,  the  sculpturers 
dig  out  the  hollows  on  the  sides.  If  the  reader 
will  press  a  slip  of  paper  between  the  tips  of 
two  fingers  of  one  hand  and  three  fingers  of 


LAYING  OUT  CELLS.  47 

the  other,  the  paper  will  take  the  shape  which 
the  wax  partition  has  when  the  sculpturers  have 
followed  the  wax  layers.  The  hollows  made 
by  the  ends  of  the  fingers  will  represent  the 
bottoms  of  the  cells  on  either  side  of  the  parti- 
tion. Now  lay  a  number  of  marbles  of  the 
same  size  upon  a  table.  They  will  lie  most 
closely  if  one  be  put  down  first,  and  six  more 
placed  around  it;  when  these  are  placed,  the 
others  will  readily  find  their  places.  If  the 
marbles  were  pressed  into  the  surface  of  a  sheet 
of  wax,  they  would  show  the  arrangement  of 
several  cells  against  one  side  of  the  central  par- 
tition; the  spaces  between  the  marbles  would 
show  where  the  partitions  between  cells  are 
made.  But  these  spaces  are  triangular,  and  if 
filled  up  with  wax,  would  waste  wax  and  space, 
both  which  are  very  precious  to  the  builders. 
So  they  cut  out  all  that  can  be  spared  from  the 
little  three  cornered  places,  and  make  the  three 
partitions  meet  between  three  cells  which  join 
each  other.  Thus  the  six  sided,  or  hexagonal 
shape  of  the  cells  is  arranged. 


4  ABOUT  BEES. 

Now  there  is  room  for  more  Bees  to  work. 
Some  lengthen  and  widen  the  middle  partition; 
some  hollow  out  the  cell  bottoms;  some  lay 
wax  for  the  sides  of  the  cells,  building  directly 
out  from  the  central  wall ;  some  smooth  the 
interior  of  the  cells.  The  same  Bees  do  not  lay 
the  wax  and  smooth  it  too.  When  the  work 
on  one  comb  is  fairly  begun,  the  proper  dis- 
tance is  measured,  and  another  is  laid  out  on 
either  side  of  the  first;  then  two  more  still  far- 
ther away,  and  so  on  until  the  ceiling  is  cov- 
ered. In  a  little  time  all  the  workers  find 
plenty  to  do,  and  they  work  with  such  diligence 
that  a  moderate  swarm  will  build  four  thousand 
cells  in  a  day. 

When  the  cells  are  made,  and  even  before 
they  are  finished,  the  queen  comes  to  lay  the 
eggs.  She  first  puts  her  head  in  the  cell,  as  if 
to  see  that  it  is  properly  made,  then  she  turns 
about  and  places  an  egg  at  the  farther  end. 
She  supplies  thirty  or  forty  cells  on  one  side  of 
the  comb,  and  then  passes  to  the  opposite  side, 
where  she  lays  as  many  more.  In  this  way  the 


FEEDING  THEIR  YOUNG.  49 

grubs  in  the  same  body  of  comb  are  hatched  at 
the  same  time,  and  the  bees  come  out  together. 
While  the  queen  is  laying,  the  workers  treat 
her  with  the  greatest  attention.  They  caress 
her;  they  feed  her  from  their  own  mouths;  if 
danger  threatens,  they  cover  her  with  their 
bodies,  piling  up  two  or  three  inches  thick.  If 
they  are  pushed  aside,  and  the  queen  is  taken 
out,  they  seem  greatly  alarmed  for  her  safety, 
but  do  not  sting.  Their  whole  anxiety  is  for 
the  welfare  of  their  beloved  mistress. 

The  egg  hangs  upon  the  upper  angle  of  the 
cell  for  three  days.  Then  it  bursts,  and  a  lively 
little  worm  falls  from  it.  At  once  the  workers 
begin  to  look  after  the  baby-bee.  They  feed  it 
with  liquid  food,  prepared  in  their  own  stomachs 
from  farina,  or  pollen,  with  honey,  and  perhaps 
water.  At  first  the  liquid  is  quite  insipid,  but 
afterwards  contains  more  honey.  The  grub 
eats  voraciously,  and  the  Bees  bring  all  it  can 
eat.  They  watch  the  brood  with  tender  care. 
If  a  oomb  containing  it  be  placed  in  an  empty 
hive,  they  will  continue  to  take  care  of  it  with- 


50  ABOUT  BEES. 

out  regard  to  other  duties.  By  thus  removing 
a  body  of  comb  containing  one  or  two  queen 
cells,  a  portion  of  a  swarm  may  be  transferred 
to  a  new  hive,  without  the  usual  process  of 
swarming. 

About  five  days  after  the  egg  is  hatched  the 
grub  stops  eating.  It  has  nearly  filled  the  cell, 
and  has  curled  itself  into  a  ring.  Then  the 
Bees  seal  it  up  in  its  cell  with  a  cover  of  wax, 
and  leave  it,  while  it  spins  a  silken  shroud  like 
a  silkworm.  This  takes  a  day  and  a  half;  in 
three  days  more  it  has  changed  into  a  pupa,  or 
chrysalis.  First  it  straightens  itself.  Then  the 
parts  of  the  perfect  Bee  begin  to  form  under 
the  clear,  white  skin.  The  head,  the  eyes,  the 
antennae,  the  wings,  the  feet,  the  rings  of  back 
and  abdomen,  may  all  be  seen  under  the  silken 
garment  which  seems  to  be  laid  in  shining  folds 
about  its  head,  and  gathered  up  about  its  feet. 
It  looks  like  the  living  mummy  of  a  Bee.  The 
skin  changes  from  white  and  clear,  to  black 
and  opaque ;  the  parts  become  more  distinct. 
On  the  twenty-first  day  from  the  laying  of  the 


CARE  OF  TO  UNO  QUEENS.  SI 

egg,  the  perfect  insect  throws  off  the  black 
mummy  wrapper,  eats  through  the  silken 
shroud  and  the  wax  coffin-lid,  and  comes  forth. 
In  half  an  hour  she  is  free  from  the  cell ;  she 
dries  her  wings,  and  on  the  same  day  goes  out 
into  the  world  to  sip  honey  and  gather  farina 
with  her  elder  sisters.  As  soon  as  the  young 
Bee  has  left  the  cell,  the  workers  clean  it  out 
and  put  it  in  order  for  another  egg,  or  for  the 
storage  of  farina  or  honey.  A  large  portion  of 
the  cells  are  used  for  this  purpose,  the  food 
being  intended  for  a  supply  at  the  season  when 
flowers  are  not  in  bloom. 

The  care  taken  of  the  egg  and  grub  of  the 
worker,  though  very  great,  can  not  compare 
with  that  given  to  the  young  which  are  to 
become  queens.  The  workers  act  as  if  the  fate 
of  their  nation  depended  upon  the  young  crea- 
ture. They  feed  it  with  a  richer,  more  pun- 
gent, and  more  acid  jelly,  and  supply  more  of 
this  royal  food  than  can  be  eaten.  After  the 
cell  is  closed  up,  the  grub  spins  a  cocoon,  but 
does  not  complete  it.  This  omission  is  often 


52  ABOUT  BEES. 

fatal  to  itself,  but  necessary  to  the  quiet  of  the 
hive,  for  the  queen  first  hatched  often  stings  to 
death  her  rivals  which  have  not  yet  appeared. 
If  the  cocoon  were  complete,  she  might  not  be 
able  to  pierce  it,  or  her  sting  might  be  entangled 
in  the  silk,  which  would  destroy  her  own  life. 
The  queen  ceases  to  be  a  chrysalis  on  the  six- 
teenth day,  but  she  is  not  allowed  to  leave  the 
cell  until  a  suitable  time  comes.  If  she  were  to 
come  forth  while  the  weather  was  such  that  a 
swarm  could  not  fly,  there  would  be  two  queens 
in  the  same  hive,  and  that  could  not  be  per- 
mitted. A  contest  would  ensue,  and  the  older 
and  stronger  would  kill  the  younger.  So  the 
workers  keep  the  young  queen  prisoner,  but 
give  her  plenty  to  eat. 

Mean  while  the  old  queen  becomes  agitated 
and  impatient.  She  has  stopped  laying  eggs, 
and  runs  distractedly  here  aud  there  over  the 
comb.  The  workers  share  in  her  excitement, 
and  gather  about  her.  They  fly  wildly  about 
the  hive,  but  do  not  go  away  for  food.  Sud- 
denly the  confused  noise  within  ceases.  In  a 


SWARMING.  53 

second  some  workers  come  forth,  and  then  the 
whole  swarm,  led  by  the  mother  queen,  streams 
out  and  fills  the  air  with  a  dark  cloud.  They 
hover  for  an  instant  about  their  old  home,  and 
then  settle  in  a  compact  mass,  like  a  ball,  or 
bunch  of  grapes,  upon  a  bush,  or  branch  of  a 
tree.  If  undisturbed  they  will  soon  fly  again, 
and  on  swift  wings  vanish  to  some  distant  place, 
and  probably  be  lost.  While  the  swarm  is 
quiet,  they  may  be  gathered  in  a  bag  or 
shaken  into  a  hive.  If  the  box  be  sweet  and 
clean,  and  particularly  if  a  little  honey  or  wax 
has  been  rubbed  in  it,  the  Bees  will  almost 
always  adopt  it  as  their  new  home. 

When  swarming  they  are  said  to  be  perfectly 
harmless.  Jardine  says:  "  They  are  so  intent 
on  the  acquisition  of  a  new  abode,  and  so 
anxious  about  the  safety  of  their  mother  and 
queen,  that  what  on  ordinary  occasions  would 
draw  forth  many  a  vengeful  weapon,  no\v  passes 
utterly  unheeded  by  them;  and  the  cultivator 
may  lift  them  in  handfuls,  like  so  much  grain, 
without  in  the  least  suffering  for  his  boldness." 


54  ABOUT  BEES. 

The  young  queens  are  left  in  the  hive.  After 
the  departure  of  the  old  queen,  the  young  one 
is  allowed  to  come  out  of  her  cell.  She  at  once 
goes  to  the  other  royal  cells,  and  tries  to  kill 
the  queens  enclosed  in  them.  Sometimes  she 
succeeds,  but  the  workers  often  crowd  round 
her  and  hold  her  back.  Excited  by  this  treat- 
ment she  sometimes  leaves  the  hive,  taking  a 
quantity  of  workers  with  her,  and  so  forms  a 
second  swarm.  This  may  be  repeated  from  a 
large  hive  until  three  or  four  swarms  have  left. 
It  would  seem  that  the  hive  must  become  quite 
deserted  from  such  drafts  upon  it,  but  this  is 
not  the  case.  The  many  Bees  which  are  in  the 
field  when  the  swarm  leaves  return  to  their  old 
home,  and  there  is  a  multitude  of  young  Bees 
in  the  comb,  which  shortly  'come  forth  and  sup- 
ply the  place  of  those  which  left. 

It  sometimes  happens  that  a  queen  dies,  and 
that  too  at  a  time  when  there  are  no  queen 
grubs  in  the  cells.  Perhaps  the  queen  has 
been  taken  away  in  order  to  see  what  the  Bees 
would  do.  For  about  twelve  hours  every  thing 


HO  W  A  QUEEN  IS  MADE.  55 

goes  on  as  usual ;  the  workers  do  not  seem  to 
know  their  loss.  Then  the  community  is  in 
great  distress.  All  labor  is  suspended.  They 
rush  in  crowds  to  the  door  as  if  to  leave  the 
hive.  They  gather  in  groups  as  if  consulting 
together.  Then  they  seek  the  comb  where 
worker  grubs  are  hatched,  and  open  three  cells 
into  one,  making  a  royal  cell.  The  one  grub 
which  is  left  in  the  cell  is  fed  with  royal  jelly, 
and  treated  in  every  way  like  a  queen  grub. 
The  same  thing  is  done  in  three  or  four  places, 
to  make  the  result  secure.  The  change  of 
food,  and  the  increased  size  of  the  cell,  work  a 
change  in  the  larva,  or  produce  a  more  com- 
plete development,  and  in  due  time  it  comes 
forth  a  perfect  queen.  It  is  known  to  be  a 
fact  that  the  Bees  can  produce  a  new  queen  for 
themselves  if  they  have  a  comb  containing 
grubs  not  more  than  three  days  old. 

When  a  second  queen  is  placed  in  a  hive 
which  has  already  a  recognized  queen,  the  Bees 
gather  round  the  new  comer,  and  though  they 
do  no  violence,  in  a  few  hours  she  is  either 


5 6  ABOUT  BEES. 

starved  or  suffocated.  If  the  two  queens  meet, 
a  battle  follows,  and  one  is  slain.  Sometimes 
both  perish.  If  the  Bees  have  lost  their  queen, 
and  have  discovered  their  loss,  a  new  queen 
will  be  at  once  recognized ;  before  the  proper 
time  has  passed,  they  treat  the  new  queen  as  if 
the  old  one  were  yet  with  them. 

There  is  another  Bee  in  the  hive,  of  which 
little  has  been  said.  This  is  the  drone,  or  male 
Bee.  He  is  known  by  his  larger  size,  his  heavy 
flight,  and  his  loud  humming  or  droning  sound. 
He  takes  no  part  in  the  work  of  the  hive,  nor 
does  he  go  to  the  field  to  gather  honey.  His 
life  is  short.  About  the  first  of  August,  when 
the  supply  of  honey  begins  to  fail,  the  Bees 
seem  to  discover  that  the  drones  are  of  no 
use  in  their  community,  and  that  they  can 
not  afford  to  support  them  in  idleness.  The 
drones  appear  to  know  their  danger,  and  clus- 
ter together  in  a  corner.  By  and  by  the  storm 
bursts.  They  are  driven  to  the  bottom  of  the 
hive,  and  out  of  doors.  They  have  their  wings 
bitten  off.  They  drag  two  or  three  of  their 


KEEPING  THE  HIVE  COOL.  57 

enemies  with  them,  but  their  strength  will  not 
save  them.  They  are  unarmed,  and  the  work- 
ers wear  sharp,  poisoned  stings.  Those  which 
escape  the  massacre  fall  a  prey  to  birds  or 
toads,  or  perish  with  cold  and  hunger.  So 
bitter  is  the  fury  of  the  workers,  that  they  tear 
open  the  cells  which  would  produce  drones, 
kill  the  young,  and  drag  the  lifeless  bodies  out 
of  the  hive. 

In  all  the  work  of  the  Bees,  they  take  much 
pains  to  keep  the  hive  uniformly  warm.  In 
cold  weather  the  heat  comes  from  the  clusters 
of  their  bodies,  and  is  considerably  more  than 
that  of  a  well  warmed  house.  In  summer  the 
hive  is  cooled  by  ventilation.  A  certain  num- 
ber of  workers  may  always  be  found  in  hot 
weather,  vibrating  their  wings  on  the  alighting 
board  before  the  door  of  the  hive.  Inside,  a 
still  larger  number  is  employed  in  the  same 
way.  They  stand  on  the  floor  of  the  hive  in 
lines,  \vhich  separate  to  allow  the  workers  to 
pass,  and  extend  to  the  spaces  between  the 
combs.  The  beating  of  their  wings  forces  a 


5  ABOUT  BEES. 

constant  current  of  fresh  air  into  the  hive. 
This  is  one  cause  of  the  hum  which  constantly 
resounds  from  a  hive  where  the  bees  are  at 
work. 

The  honey  may  be  taken  from  the  hive, 
after  the  Bees  have  been  removed  by 
driving,  or  by  suffocation,  or  it  may  be  pro- 
cured in  extra  boxes.  Formerly,  a  dense 
smoke  was  made,  the  hive  placed  over  it,  and 
the  Bees  destroyed.  Or  the  hive  may  be 
turned  up,  and  an  empty  one  placed  over  it; 
a  few  smart  taps  on  the  lower  hive  will  drive 
the  Bees  into  the  upper  one.  But  the  best 
plan  is  to  have  the  hives  made  in  two  sto- 
ries, and  to  put  suitable  boxes  into  the  upper 
story,  communicating  with  the  lower  by  holes 
through  the  ceiling.  The  Bees  fill  the  boxes 
with  comb  and  honey,  and  then  they  may  be 
removed  and  others  put  in  the  place. 

Bees  are  kept  in  most  countries,  but  the 
varieties  differ  considerably.  Fifteen  or  twenty 
kinds  of  hive  Bees  are  named. 


THEY  CAME  FROM  EUROPE.  59 

In  Africa,  in  Australia,  and  in  America, 
they  are  often  found  wild.  Bee  hunters  some- 
times derive  considerable  profit  from  the 
honey  which  they  find  in  the  hollow  trunks 
of  decayed  trees.  The  hunter  catches  a  Bee 
which  is  about  ready  to  go  home,  marks 
it  with  a  little  red  paint,  or  sticks  a  bit  of 
white  down  to  it,  and  then  watches  its  flight. 
He  goes  a  little  distance,  and  takes  another, 
which  he  treats  in  the  same  way.  By  observ- 
ing several,  he  traces  their  lines  to  the  tree, 
cuts  it  down,  and  obtains  the  honey.  The  wild 
Bees  of  America  were  not  originally  natives. 
They  were  brought  from  Europe  by  the  Eng- 
lish, and  a  swarm  was  carried  over  the  Alle- 
ghany  mountains  in  1670  by  a  hurricane.  The 
Indians  call  them  "English  Flies,"  and  they 
say  that  the  Indian  and  the  buffalo  flee  before 
the  Bees.  Longfellow's  Indian  says  of  the 
Bees  and  the  white  clover : 


O  ABOUT  BEES. 

"  Wheresoe'er  they  move,  before  them 
Swarms  the  stinging  fly,  the  Ahmo, 
Swarms  the  Bee,  the  honey-maker; 
Wheresoe'er  they  tread,  beneath  them 
Springs  a  flower  unknown  among  us, 
Springs  the  White  Man's  Foot  in  blossom." 

"  Wise  in  their  government,  diligent  and 
active  in  their  employments,  devoted  to  their 
young  and  to  their  queen,  the  Bees  read  a  lec- 
ture to  mankind  that  exemplifies  their  oriental 
name,  Deburah,  she  that  speaketh." 

The  great  family  of  Bees  may  be  divided 
into  two  classes :  those  which  live  in  commu- 
nities, and  are  called  Social  Bees,  and  those 
which  living  and  working  alone,  are  called  Sol- 
itary Bees.  The  varieties  of  both  classes  are 
very  numerous.  More  than  two  hundred  and 
fifty  species  are  known  in  Great  Britain  alone. 
The  most  noted  of  the  social  Bees  are  the  com- 
mon Hive  or  Honey  Bees,  which  have  already 
been  described.  Another  kind,  familiar  to  all 
my  readers,  is  the  Humble  Bee.  In  New  Eng- 
land these  Bees  are  known  to  boys  as  Bumble 


THE  HUMBLE  BEE.  6 1 

Bees,  or  Bum-bees.  In  different  parts  of  Old 
England  they  are  called  Foggies,  Dumbledores, 
or  Hummel-bees.  Let  us  observe  the  annual 
circuit  of  a  family  of  these  Bees. 

In  autumn  the  workers,  the  males,  and  all  the 
old  females,  die.  The  young  females  find  some 
sheltered  place,  in  moss,  dead  leaves,  or  de- 
cayed wood  of  an  old  tree,  where  they  may 
pass  the  winter.  As  the  cold  begins  they  be- 
come torpid,  and  so  they  remain  until  the 
bright  sun  and  balmy  air  of  spring  wake  them 
from  their  long  sleep,"  and  call  them  again 
among  the  flowers.  At  once  they  separate, 
and  each,  widow  though  she  be,  makes  a  home 
and  founds  a  colony  of  her  own.  She  finds  a 
spot  which  suits  her,  and  begins  to  dig  a  path 
in  the  ground.  She  picks  out  the  grains  of 
dirt  with  her  strong  jaws,  passes  them  from 
one  pair  of  legs  to  the  next,  under  herself,  and 
finally  kicks  them  as  far  behind  her  as  she  can. 
When  her  passage  is  deep  enough,  a  few  inches 
or  even  some  feet  long,  she  ends  it  in  u  rounded 
cavern,  which  she  lines  with  soft  leaves.  Some- 


62  ABOUT  BEES. 

times  she  borrows  the  burrow  of  the  field 
mouse,  and  quite  often  the  field  mouse  comes 
and  reclaims  his  own.  Indeed,  he  is  not  care- 
ful to  prove  ownership,  particularly  if  the 
chamber  is  well  filled  with  honey  and  young 
brood. 

When  the  room  is  done,  she  builds  brood- 
cells,  taking  the  wax  from  herself,  like  the  hive 
Bees.  Her  comb  is  not  built  in  the  mar- 
velously  regular  style  of  the  hive  Bees. 
She  makes  an  egg-shaped  cell  of  dirty 
wax,  shaped  like  an  earthen  jar.  This  she 
places  on  its  end,  mouth  upwards.  Then  she 
sets  another  beside  it,  and  so  gathers  an  irreg- 
ular mass  of  cells,  some  standing  on  the 
ground,  some  fastened  to  the  walls  of  others. 
Some  are  filled  with  honey ;  others  receive 
eggs.  If  more  than  one  tier  of  cells  is  found, 
the  second  and  third  will  be  placed  above  the 
first,  and  will  be  supported  by  waxen  pillars. 
Besides  these  cells,  others  are  built  by  them- 
selves about  the  room.  These  are  filled  with 
honey.  The  honey  jars  are  never  sealed  up, 


THE  COLONT  INCREASES.  3 

for  they  are  not  filled  for  winter  supply,  but 
for  daily  use. 

In  about  fifteen  days  from  the  laying  of  eggs, 
the  labors  of  the  mother  Bee,  who  has  hitherto 
toiled  alone,  are  rewarded  by  the  appearance 
of  workers.  The  young  Bees  make  more 
comb,  and  fill  the  cells  with  honey  and  farina. 
They  line  the  roof  and  walls  of  the  nest  with 
a  coating  of  wax,  to  keep  the  earth  in  place, 
and  to  prevent  the  rain  from  soaking  through. 
When  the  new  cells  are  ready,  the  mother  lays 
a  new  supply  of  eggs.  She  must  protect  the 
new  laid  eggs  from  the  workers,  who  would 
eat  them  if  not  driven  away.  At  times  she 
gets  angry  at  some  who  persist  in  their  efforts 
to  get  the  eggs,  and  chases  them  out  of  the 
nest;  but  her  wrath  has  defeated  her  prudence 
—  the  others  take  advantage  of  her  absence, 
and  steal  her  treasure. 

If  she  can  guard  the  eggs  for  a  few  hours, 
.the  danger  ceases.  In  four  or  five  days  they 
are  hatched,  and  as  soon  as  the  grubs  are 
grown,  each  spins  a  cocoon  for  himself.  Sev- 


64  ABOUT  BEES. 

eral  eggs  are  placed  in  one  cell.  As  the  grubs 
grow,  the  cell  becomes  too  small,  and  the  pres- 
sure tears  it  open.  The  Bees  patch  up  the 
rent.  Presently  it  tears  again,  and  again  it  is 
patched.  Thus  in  a  little  time  it  becomes  four 
or  five  times  as  large  as  it  was  at  first.  The 
patch  work  is  not  fitted  neatly,  like  the  wax 
work  of  the  honey  Bees,  and  produces  the 
rough,  clumsy  cells  found  in  these  nests.  The 
males  are  more  useful  than  the  drones  in  the  Bee 
hive  ;  for  though  they  do  not  gather  food,  they 
provide  their  share  of  wax.  The  other  Bees 
do  not  kill  them  in  autumn,  but  all  perish 
together  when  the  frosts  come. 

These  underground  cities  frequently  contain 
quite  a  dense  population.  In  one  nest  were 
counted  157  males,  56  females,  and  180  work- 
ers, making  a  total  census  of  343.  These  num- 
bers seem  small  compared  with  the  20,000  to 
40,000  honey  Bees  in  a  hive,  but  if  we  remem- 
ber that  the  Humble  Bees  are  much  the  largest, 
that  the  comb  is  large  and  very  irregular,  we 
find  that  so  many  require  a  large  space ;  and 


HUBERTS  EXPERIMENT.  65 

we  must  not  forget  that  they  usually  dig  the 
place  for  themselves  in  the  earth. 

Their  honey  is  very  sweet,  but  is  apt  to  give 
headache.  The  wax  is  not  clear  like  ordinary 
beeswax,  and  will  not  melt  as  well.  Each  spe- 
cies makes  a  cell  peculiar  to  itself,  either  in 
position  or  shape. 

Huber,  while  studying  the  habits  of  these 
Bees,  placed  several  under  a  glass,  with  a  piece 
of  brood-comb.  He  took  away  all  their  wax 
and  honey,  and  gave  them  farina  only.  The 
comb  did  not  rest  fairly  on  the  table,  and  when 
the  bees  climbed  upon  it,  to  make  it  warm 
enough  to  hatch  the  eggs,  it  rocked  to  and  fro. 
This  motion  annoyed  them  very  much,  but 
they  had  no  wax,  and  could  not  make  props 
to  keep  the  comb  in  place.  A  few  of  the  Bees 
then  rested  the  hooks  of  their  hind  feet  upon 
the  comb,  and  braced  the  middle  and  fore  feet 
upon  the  table.  In  this  way  they  propped  the 
mass  on  every  side,  and  kept  it  steady.  They 
remained  in  this  position  until  relieved  by 
others,  taking  turns  together  for  two  or  three 


66  ABOUT  BEES. 

days.  Then  Huber  gave  them  some  wax, 
which  they  at  once  wrought  into  pillars, 
beneath  the  comb.  But  in  a  few  days  the 
wax  became  dry  and  gave  way,  and  the  Bees 
had  to  support  the  comb  as  before. 

One  variety  of  Humble  Bee  does  not  dig  a 
chamber  in  the  ground,  but  fills  up  a  crevice  in 
a  heap  of  stones,  and  for  this  has  been  called 
the  Lapidary  Bee,  Bombus  lapidarius. 

Another  is  the  Carder  Bee,  B.  muscorum. 
This  Bee  makes  a  nest  in  some  hollow  upon 
the  surface  of  the  ground.  It  consists  of  a 
roof  of  moss,  lined  and  bound  together  with 
moss.  It  has  an  entrance  at  the  bottom,  which 
is  also  covered  with  an  arch,  and  the  whole 
affair  is  shaped  not  unlike  the  huts  which  the 
Esquimaux  build  of  snow.  The  manner  in 
which  the  Carder  Bees  prepare  the  moss  for 
their  nest  is  quite  curious.  When  several  have 
found  a  supply  which  suits  them,  they  form  a 
line  from  the  nest  to  the  moss.  The  foremost 
Bee  takes  a  bunch  of  moss  and  combs  it  with 
her  jaws  and  fore  feet  until  the  fibres  all  lie 


CUCKOO  BEES.  67 

straight  in  a  bundle  beneath  her.  She  then 
pushes  it  behind  her,  and  at  once  proceeds  to 
make  another  bundle.  A  second  Bee  takes 
the  first  bundle,  combs  it  again,  and  kicks  it 
back  to  a  third,  and  so  it  is  passed  on  from  one 
to  another,  along  the  whole  line  to  the  last  Bee, 
which  puts  it  in  its  place  on  the  roof  of  the 
house.  This  domed  roof  is  made  from  four  to 
six  inches  high. 

Certain  kinds  of  Bees  have  been  called  False 
Humble  Bees,  or  Cuckoo  Bees,  Apathus. 
They  are  like  the  true  Humble  Bees  in  size 
and  shape,  but  they  lack  the  brush-lined  cavi- 
ties in  the  thighs  for  carrying  pollen.  These 
Bees  do  not  build  any  house,  do  not  make  cells, 
or  store  honey,  or  care  for  their  young.  They 
are  rovers,  who  take  care  of  number  one,  and 
lay  their  eggs  in  the  nests  of  other  Bees.  The 
larvae  which  hatch  from  these  eggs  are  stronger 
than  the  rightful  occupants  of  the  cells,  and 
eat  up  all  the  food.  So  the  hard  working 
Humble  Bee  has  built  her  cell  for  an  intruder, 
and  continues  to  care  for  it  as  if  it  were  the 


68 


ABOUT  BEES. 


true  heir,  which  it  has  starved  out.  Such 
things  do  not  happen  among  mankind  alone. 

Among  the  solitary  Bees  several  trades  are 
represented.  Their  labors  all  tend  to  the  same 
result  —  shelter  and  food  for  their  young,  while 
some  work  in  wood  like  carpenters ;  others, 
like  masons,  build  houses  of  mortar;  others 
excavate  the  ground  as  miners ;  others  find 
cavities,  which  they  line  with  leaves,  like  up- 
holsterers. 

The  Carpenter  Bee  begins  her  work  in  early 
spring.  She  chooses  a  bit  of  wood  which 
suits  her,  usually  the  dead  branch  of  a  tree, 
or  a  weather  beaten  board,  and  in  this  she 
bores  a  hole  about  an  inch  and  a  half  long 
and  large  enough  to  turn  round  in,  which 
usually  opens  upon  the  under  side  of  the 
branch  or  board,  so  that  the  rain  may  not  come 
in.  After  boring  directly  in  as  far  as  she 
chooses,  she  turns  and  works  several  inches 
along  the  grain  of  the  wood.  All  her  chips 
she  takes  out  and  stores  carefully  in  some  place 


THE  CARPENTER  BEE.  69 

where   they  will   not    be   blown    away  by  the 
wind. 

When  she  has  bored  as  deep  as  she  chooses, 
she  begins  to  fill  up  the  hole  again.  She 
puts  a  little  heap  of  pollen  in  the  bottom, 
and  lays  an  egg.  Then  she  goes  to  her  store 
of  chips  and  gets  material  for  a  floor  above 
the  egg.  She  fastens  the  chips  in  a  ring 
about  the  wall,  with  glue  from  her  mouth. 
Within  this  ring  she  makes  a  second,  then  a 
third,  until  the  partition  is  complete.  On  this 
floor  she  places  another  pile  of  pollen,  and  an 
egg ;  and  thus  she  continues  until  the  hole  is 
full.  When  the  egg  hatches,  the  grub  finds  a 
supply  of  food;  in  a  few  days  it  has  grown  to 
its  full  size,  and  changes  to  a  chrysalis,  placing 
its  head  downwards.  In  this  way  the  perfect 
Bee,  as  it  gnaws  its  way  out  of  the  wood,  is 
prevented  from  interfering  with  its  younger 
brothers  and  sisters  which  are  not  yet  quite 
ready  to  meet  the  responsibilities  of  society. 
English  writers  describe  the  Carpenter  Bees  as 
living  in  South  America  and  Africa;  they 


7°  ABOUT  BEES. 

may  be  found   in  various  parts  of  the   United 
States. 

A  variety  of  wood-boring  Bee  chooses  the 
stem  of  the  willow  tree  for  its  home.  When 
its  tunnel  is  finished,  it  flies  away  to  a  rose 
bush,  alights  upon  a  leaf,  and  cuts  out  a  round 
piece,  about  as  large  as  a  half  dime.  Many 
persons  seeing  the  round  spaces  left,  charge 
the  mischief  to  the  caterpillars.  The  Bee 
stands  upon  the  piece  which  she  cuts  off, 
and  as  it  falls  she  flies  back  to  her  nest  with 
it  in  her  jaws.  She  bends  it  into  a  cup  shape, 
and  stuffs  it  down  to  the  very  bottom  of  the 
hole.  When  the  cell  is  suitably  lined,  she  puts 
in  some  pollen  and  an  egg,  and  covers  it  with 
another  bit  of  leaf,  which  is  the  floor  of  a  sec- 
ond cell.  When  the  leaves  are  dry  and  stiff, 
they  are  so  compact  that  the  whole  may  be 
taken  out  together,  and  then  separated  into 
sections,  like  a  row  of  thimbles  thrust  into  each 
other.  One  variety  of  the  Upholsterer  Bee 
uses  the  scarlet  leaves  of  the  poppy  for  the 
silken  lining  of  its  cradle. 


THE  MASON  BEE.  7 1 

When  a  boy,  the  writer  was  somewhat  fright- 
ened by  a  bee  which  came  into  his  bedroom. 
The  alarm  was  soon  changed  to  curiosity,  when 
the  Bee  was  seen  to  examine  an  old  inkstand, 
which  had  several  holes  in  it  for  holding  pens. 
The  Bee  would  enter  one  of  these  holes,  remain 
an  instant,  fly  away  out  of  the  window,  and 
presently  come  back  to  the  same  place  again. 
So  she  buzzed  about  all  that  day  and  the  next, 
and  by  the  end  of  the  second  day  she  had  filled 
up  all  the  holes  in  the  inkstand,  and  plastered 
them  over  neatly  with  mortar.  She  explored 
the  central  place,  where  the  ink  should  be 
placed,  but  although  it  was  dry,  it  did  not  suit 
her,  and  she  departed.  The  holes  were  found 
to  be  divided  into  cells  by  partitions  of  mortar, 
and  in  each  cell  was  a  grub  which  would  have 
become  a  Bee. 

Other  Mason  Bees  build  a  mass  of  cells, 
placed  side  by  side,  in  a  lump,  which  they  stick 
against  the  side  of  a  wall,  or  in  a  corner.  They 
love  to  work  in  the  dark  attic  of  a  house, 


72  ABOUT  BEES. 

where  they  are  undisturbed,  finding  entrance 
through  some  crevice  or  knot-hole. 

They  frequently  fill  the  hollow  stems  of  old 
raspberry  vines,  and  the  smaller  kinds  fill  straws 
or  nail  holes.  In  fact,  they  occupy  all  sorts  of 
odd  and  queer  places,  even  filling  up  the  scrolls 
of  a  snail  shell. 

There  is  no  better  sport  for  a  boy  than  the 
watching  of  one  of  the  working  insects  in  a 
quiet  afternoon  among  the  summer  holidays. 
Unlike  the  birds,  they  do  not  mind  the  pres- 
ence of  a  visitor,  and  go  right  on  with  their 
work.  An  ant  hill,  a  Bee  hive,  a  solitary  Bee, 
a  spider  spinning  his  web,  or  a  hornet  building 
his  paper  mansion  on  the  other  side  of  the  win- 
dow pane,  will  pay  for  many  an  hour's  silent 
observation.  And  the  quiet  boy,  with  watch- 
ful eyes,  will  find  many  chances  of  seeing  them, 
which  he  least  expected. 


ABOUT     S 


PIDERS. 


ARTICULATA. —  INSBCTA. 

OaD*a— - AraclmidcB.    Spider-family. 


CURIOUS  and  beautiful  forms 
are  found  in  every  department 
of  the  insect  world.  In  all  its 
infinite  variety  there  are  none 
which  do  not  pay  for  careful, 
watchful  study.  "We  have  de- 
scribed two  great  tribes  of 
workers.  Each  is  busv,  one 
not  more  than  the  other.  "  Go  to  the  ant,  thou 
sluggard,"  says  the  wise  man,  "  consider  her 
ways  and  be  wise." 


76  ABOUT  SPIDERS. 

So  doth  the  little  busy  bee 

Improve  each  shining  hour; 
And  gathers  honey  all  the  day, 

From  every  opening  flower. 

We  come  now  to  the  family  of  spiders. 
They  are  workers,  too,  in  their  way,  but  their 
labors  are  devised  only  to  carry  on  their  great 
business  of  preying  upon  other  insects.  They 
are  carnivorous  insects ;  made  to  live  upon 
flesh,  just  as  the  animals  of  the  cat  tribe  live 
upon  other  animals,  and  as  the  hawks  prey 
upon  other  birds.  They  serve  a  very  impor- 
tant purpose  in  the  insect  world,  for  they  help 
to  keep  other  tribes,  which  would  increase  too 
rapidly,  in  their  proper  proportion. 

Many  people  have  a  natural  dislike  to  a  Spi- 
der. They  are  known  to  bite,  that  is,  to  sting  — 
flies,  at  least  —  and  there  is  a  kind  of  fear  that 
they  may  sting  men  or  children.  They  seem 
to  be  very  crafty,  and  then  they  run  so  fast, 
and  in  such  unexpected  ways,  that  young 
ladies  think  it  quite  proper  to  scream,  or  run, 
if  a  Spider  happens  to  come  her  way.  Then  the 


GOLDSMITH'S  SPIDER.  77 

housekeepers  hate  them  because  they  spin  webs 
in  the  corners ;  the  webs  gather  dust,  and  the 
room  is  untidy.  The  offending  webs  are  swept 
down,  but  the  Spiders  are  diligent,  and  in  a  few 
hours  replace  the  webs.  So  the  housewives 
search  diligently,  and  without  mercy  put  the 
persevering  insects  to  death.  It  may  be  that 
perseverance,  as  an  abstract  quality,  is  not  as 
valuable  as  some  people  think.  Perseverance 
in  a  good  cause,  to  attain  a  desirable  object,  is 
very  commendable,  but  perseverance  in  an  evil 
way  only  makes  the  evil  worse.  We  are  apt 
to  think  that  ways  which  are  not  in  harmony 
with  our  ways  are  wrong,  and  so  the  housewife 
very  much  dislikes  the  perseverance  of  the 
Spider. 

Goldsmith  writes  of  a  Spider  which  he 
watched.  It  was  three  days  making  its  web ; 
then  another  Spider  came,  and  in  the  battle 
which  the  two  had  for  the  web  they  nearly 
ruined  it.  Three  days  more  were  spent  in 
repairing  damages.  When  the  web  was  com- 
plete again,  a  wasp  was  caught  in  it,  and  as  the 


7  ABOUT  SPIDERS. 

Spider  did  not  dare  engage  so  powerful  an  ene- 
my, it  cut  the  bands  and  let  the  wasp  go.  But 
tjie  web  was  so  torn  that  the  insect  thought 
it  easier  to  make  a  new  one,  than  to  repair 
the  old.  This  new  web  Goldsmith  destroyed, 
and  the  Spider  made  another.  Again  he  de- 
stroyed the  work,  but  the  poor  creature  could 
spin  no  more.  It  had  spun  four  entire  webs, 
besides  making  repairs  enough  to  complete  an- 
other, and  had  worked  nearly  fifteen  days.  Its 
only  resource  for  a  living  was  to  drive  another 
Spider  from  its  web,  and  take  possession. 

In  shape  and  structure  the  Spiders  are  all 
similar,  but  unlike  most  other  insects.  A  wasp, 
a  bee,  or  an  ant,  has  three  distinct  parts  —  a 
head,  a  body  or  thorax,  and  a  belly  or  abdo- 
men ;  and  these  three  parts  are  connected  by 
slender  cords  or  tubes.  The  Spider's  head 
and  body  seem  to  have  been  soldered  into  one 
piece,  as  if  a  man's  head  were  set  firmly  upon 
his  shoulders.  Naturalists  call  this  the  cephalo- 
thorax,  or  head-chest.  Its  body,  as  well  as  the 
eight  legs  which  are  joined  to  it,  is  covered  with 


HOW  THET  SPIN.  79 

plate  armor  of  strong  scales.  The  fore  part 
has  two  branches,  which  might  be  called  arms, 
each  furnished  at  the  end  with  a  curved  sting, 
shaped  like  the  claw  of  a  cat.  Each  claw  has 
a  tiny  opening  near  the  point,  through  which 
poison  passes  into  the  wound  which  it  gives. 
When  a  fly  is  caught  in  its  toils,  the  Spider 
runs  to  it,  and  strikes  with  these  arms,  inflict- 
ing wounds  with  its  poisoned  dagger-claws.  In 
different  parts  of  the  head  the  Spider  has  sev- 
eral eyes,  generally  eight,  but  sometimes  only 
six,  and  these  eyes  are  arranged  differently  in 
different  species.  The  number  seems  to  make 
up  for  their  want  of  motion. 

The  hind  part  of  the  Spider  is  covered  with 
fine  supple  skin,  and  clothed  with  hair,  Near 
the  end  are  four,  five,  or  six,  little  swollen  spots 
or  spinners.  Each  of  these  has  a  multitude  of 
little  tubes,  so  many  that  the  microscope  has 
shown  a  thousand  in  a  space  no  bigger  than  a 
pin's  point.  Out  of  these  tubes  comes  the  mate- 
rial of  the  Spider's  web.  At  a  little  distance, 
the  threads  from  all  these  tubes  of  one  spin- 


80  ABOUT  SPIDERS. 

ner  join,  and  then  the  strands  from  all  the 
spinners  are  joined  together.  Thus  the  thin 
spider-line  which  one  can  barely  see,  as  it  glit- 
ters with  moisture  in  the  sunshine,  and  in  many 
positions  can  not  see  at  all,  is  made  of  four  or 
six  strands,  each  strand  composed  of  more  than 
a  thousand  threadlets.  This  wonderful  cable  is 
strong  enough  to  support  the  Spider  herself. 
She  often  stops  spinning  in  mid-air,  turns  back 
and  climbs  up  the  same  cord  to  the  place 
whence  she  let  herself  fall. 

The  spinning  of  the  Garden  Spider  is  proba- 
bly not  more  curious  than  that  of  any  other,  but 
it  is  rather  more  easily  observed.  Sometimes 
one  begins  her  web  on  the  outside  of  a  window, 
and  is  easily  watched  from  within.  She  begins 
by  pressing  the  spinners  against  the  wood  of 
the  window  frame ;  a  little  of  the  gum  exudes, 
and  fastens  one  end  of  the  line.  She  runs 
along,  giving  out  line  as  she  goes,  until  she  finds 
a  good  place  to  fasten  at,  where  she  presses  her- 
self against  the  wall,  making  the  other  end  se- 
cure. She  first  stretches  a  few  lines  about  the 


THE   GARDEN  SPIDER'S    WEB.  8 1 

space  which  the  web  is  to  fill,  forming  a  triangle, 
or  a  four-sided  figure.  She  then  draws  a  line 
across  the  middle  of  this  space.  All  these  lines 
she  makes  very  strong,  doubling  some  of  them 
several  times.  If  any  of  them  seems  to  become 
slack,  she  fastens  a  line  near  one  end,  and  pulls 
it  aside,  until  the  main  line  is  taut.  Now  she 
goes  to  the  middle  of  the  cross  line,  fastens  a 
line  there,  and  then  runs  back  to  the  margin 
and  fastens  it  an  inch  or  so  from  the  end  of  the 
cross  line,  She  goes  to  the  middle,  and 
stretches  another  line  in  another  direction,  and 
then  another,  as  if  she  were  putting  in  the 
spokes  of  a  wheel.  While  doing  this  she  does 
not  put  in  the  rays  or  spokes  on  one  side  first, 
but  draws  her  lines  in  opposite  directions,  keep- 
ing the  strains  all  the  time  even.  When  she 
is  about  the  first  part  of  the  work,  running 
the  marginal  lines,  and  placing  the  first  few 
spokes,  she  works  slowly,  stopping  now  and 
then  to  plan ;  but  as  the  web  progresses,  she 
seems  to  have  solved  her  problem  to  her  satis- 
faction, and  hurries  on  the  work. 


2  ABOUT  SPIDERS. 

Presently  the  rays  are  all  set.  Then  she 
goes  to  the  centre,  and  lays  down  a  spiral  line, 
fastening  it  to  every  spoke,  and  drawing  it 
round  and  round,  at  even  distances,  in  ever 
widening  circles,  until  she  comes  to  the  out- 
side. The  main  lines  and  rays  are  made  stout 
and  firm.  The  spiral  lines  are  very  elastic,  and 
may  be  drawn  far  out  of  place  without  break- 
ing. The  garden  Spider  finishes  her  web  in  a 
few  hours.  She  works  as  well  by  night  as  by 
day  ;  in  the  dark  as  in  the  light. 

When  her  web  is  done,  she  hangs  herself  in 
the  middle  of  it,  with  her  head  downwards, 
waiting  until  some  insect  becomes  entangled  in 
her  snare.  When  she  feels  the  web  move,  she 
rushes  to  the  spot.  If  the  game  be  small,  she 
thrusts  in  her  dagger,  and  kills  it  at  once.  If 
it  be  large,  and  there  is  danger  that  its  strug- 
gles will  tear  the  web,  she  at  once  winds  rt 
round  and  round  with  cords,  which  she  spins 
as  she  goes.  She  ties  it,  wing  and  foot,  until 
its  struggles  can  do  no  harm ;  then  she  gives 
the  fatal  blow,  and  eats  the  victim  at  her  lei- 


THE  NEPHILA   PLUMIPES.  83 

sure.  If  the  insect  is  so  large  that  she  can  not 
manage  it,  she  cuts  away  the  threads  as  quick 
as  possible,  and  lets  it  go,  before  it  has  torn  her 
web  in  pieces. 

A  writer  for  the  "Atlantic  Monthly,"  a  sur- 
geon in  the  United  States  Army,  gives  an  inter- 
esting account  of  the  spinning  of  a  kind  of  Spi- 
der, Nephila  plumipes,  which  he  found  on  one 
of  the  sea  islands  near  Charleston.  These  Spi- 
ders were  quite  large.  The  females  were  from 
an  inch  to  an  inch  and  a  quarter  long ;  the 
males  were  only  about  one  fourth  of  an  inch 
long,  and  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  would 
have  weighed  as  much  as  one  of  their  buxom 
wives.  Accident  showed  him  that  he  could 
reel  the  silk  from  the  living  Spider.  He  there- 
fore gathered  as  many  as  he  could  find,  and 
brought  them  north  to  experiment  with. 
When  ready  to  spin,  he  fastened  each  in  a 
little  frame  of  cardboard,  which  would  hold 
the  insect  without  hurting  it.  Then  he  reeled 
the  silk  upon  a  suitable  reel.  From  one  he 
wound  about  one  thousand  yards,  and  from 


84  ABOUT  SPIDERS. 

another  over  two  miles  of  silk.  A  single  thread 
sustained  a  weight  of  fifty-four  grains. 

The  silk  from  the  same  Spider  was  of  differ- 
ent colors  and  qualities.  At  the  same  instant 
he  wound  from  one  insect  one  thread  golden 
yellow,  and  another  bright  silver  white.  If  the 
two  ran  together,  they  made  one  light  yellow 
thread.  The  white  silk,  when  dry,  was  firm 
and  unyielding,  suitable  for  the  rays  of  a  Spi- 
der's web.  The  yellow  was  very  elastic,  like 
that  used  for  the  spiral  rings  which  bind  the 
rays  together.  There  was  also  a  pale  blue  silk 
which  seemed  to  be  used  to  tie  up  an  insect 
after  it  was  caught  in  the  web.  Enough  silk 
was  reeled  to  be  woven  in  a  loom,  upon  a  warp 
of  black  silk,  so  as  to  make  a  bit  of  ribbon 
two  inches  wide,  showing  that  it  was  real  silk. 

The  House  Spider  usually  puts  her  web  in 
some  corner.  She  runs  out  as  far  as  she  in- 
tends to  spread  the  web,  fastens  a  thread  to 
the  wood,  then  goes  back  to  the  corner  and  out 
on  the  other  side,  until  she  comes  opposite  the 
place  where  she  first  made  the  thread  fast,  and 


THE  HOUSE  SPIDER'S    WEB.  85 

there  fixes  the  other  end.  Then  she  places  a 
second  and  a  third  thread  beside  the  first,  for 
these  make  the  foundation  of  her  whole  work. 
From  these  she  draws  other  lines  to  the  angle, 
and  then  she  works  back  and  forth  over  the 
whole,  until  the  piece  of  gauze  is  done.  She 
then  stretches  a  great  number  of  threads  from 
side  to  side  above  her  web,  crossing  them  every 
way.  These  lines  are  arranged  not  unlike  the 
tackling  of  a  ship,  and  often  reach  two  or  three 
feet  high.  The  flies  passing  through  the  space 
become  entangled,  fall  upon  the  web  below, 
and  are  caught.  Besides  all  this,  she  makes  a 
round  funnel,  for  a  hiding  place,  below  the 
web,  in  the  corner,  or  behind  some  piece  of 
furniture.  Here  she  waits  and  watches,  out  of 
sight.  If  the  least  touch  disturbs  the  web,  she 
feels  it,  for  the  rays  from  every  part  pass  down 
into  this  funnel,  and  she  rushes  forth  to  learn 
the  cause. 

A  Spider  of  Jamaica  is  called  the  Trap-door 
Spider.  This  insect  digs  a  burrow  in  the 
ground,  and  lines  it  first  with  coarse,  rough 


86 


ABOUT  SPIDERS. 


web,  which  seems  more  like  the  paper  of  the 
wasp's  nest  than  the  silk  of  the  Spider.  The 
inner  lining  is  smooth  and  soft,  and  may  be 
drawn  out  of  the  other,  without  injuring  either. 
The  tube  is  placed  where  the  surface  of  the 
ground  is  a  little  sloping,  and  the  mouth  is 
covered  with  a  door,  made  like  the  lining  of 
the  tube.  This  door  is  fastened  by  a  hinge  at 
the  upper  edge,  in  such  a  position  that  it  falls 
into  place  by  its  own  weight.  The  outside  is 
covered  with  earth,  which  perfectly  conceals 
the  nest.  A  stranger  may  well  be  startled  at 
seeing  a  hole  open  in  the  ground  at  his  feet, 
and  a  large  Spider  peep  out  to  observe  what  is 
going  on.  One  of  these  Spiders  dug  its  tube 
in  cultivated  ground.  After  it  was  made,  the 
earth  was  heaped  over  it  about  three  inches; 
the  Spider  finished  out  its  tube,  and  made  a 
second  door  at  the  new  surface. 

This  Spider  is  about  an  inch  and  a  half  long. 
It  leases  its  burrow  at  night  and  hunts  for  its 
prey.  If  any  one  attempts  to  raise  the  trap,  it 
hooks  its  hind  legs  into  the  door,  and  its  fore 


THE  MY  GALE.  87 

legs  into  the  side  of  the  tube,  and  holds  on  with 
all  its  might.  It  will  suffer  its  nest  to  be  dug 
out  of  the  ground  and  carried  away  without 
leaving  it ;  in  this  way  they  have  been  caught 
and  put  where  they  could  be  watched.  Other 
species  which  make  their  home  thus  are  found 
in  Australia  and  elsewhere. 

In  Surinam,  and  on  the  Amazon  river,  Spi- 
ders are  found  of  the  genus  Mygale,  which 
destroy  birds.  When  this  was  first  reported, 
it  was  not  believed,  but  the  Spiders  have  been 
caught  in  the  very  act.  When  we  consider  the 
size  which  they  attain,  the  wonder  ceases.  One 
is  described  as  two  inches  in  length  of  body, 
and  more  than  seven  inches  in  expanse  of  legs. 
It  was  covered  with  'coarse  red  and  gray  hairs. 
Some  of  these  huge  Spiders  make  a  dense  web; 
one  digs  a  burrow  two  feet  deep,  and  lines  it 
with  silk.  When  the  children  catch  one  of 
these  fellows,  they  tie  a  string  about  its  waist, 
and  lead  it  along  like  a  dog.  The  Mygale 
sheds  its  hair&  easily  and  they  pierce  the  skin 


88  ABOUT  SPIDERS. 

of  one  who  handles  it,  causing  painful  irrita- 
tion. 

The  name  Tarantula  is  given  to  several  large 
Spiders  that  live  in  the  ground  and  hunt  for 
prey.  The  Italians  have  a  belief  that  one  kind 
will  cause  a  disease  which  can  be  cured  only  by 
dancing  a  long  while  to  peculiar  music.  The 
sting  really  makes  but  a  slight  wound. 

One  member  of  this  family  lives  in  the  water. 
Still  it  lives  by  breathing  air,  and  therefore  it 
takes  a  supply  along  with  it  down  under  the 
water  into  its  nest.  Like  all  the  other  Spiders, 
this  makes  its  nest  of  silk  ;  it  is  generally  about 
as  large  as  an  acorn,  egg-shaped,  and  open 
below.  This  cell  is  filled  with  air;  and  if  the 
Spider  be  kept  in  a  glass  vessel,  it  may  be  seen 
in  its  cell,  resting  in  Spider  fashion,  with  its 
head  downward.  Where  the  air  came  from 
was,  for  a  long  time,  the  question.  Some 
thought  it  was  the  oxygen  which  was  formed 
by  the  water  plants. 

A  few  years  since,  Mr.  Bell  saw  some  of 
these  Spiders  spin  their  webs,  and  fill  them 


CATCHING  BUBBLES   OF  AIR.  89 

with  air.  When  one  had  made  her  web,  she 
went  to  the  surface,  grasped  a  bubble  of  air, 
descended  quickly  to  her  nest,  and  thrust  the 
air  in.  Then  she  came  up  for  more,  and  after 
twelve  or  fourteen  journeys  she  had  laid  in  her 
supply.  When  enough  had  been  collected,  the 
Spider  crept  in  and  settled  herself  to  rest  in  her 
transparent  cell. 

"  The  manner  in  which  the  animal  possesses 
itself  of  the  bubble  is  very  curious.  It  ascends 
to  the  surface  slowly,  assisted  by  a  thread 
attached  to  a  leaf  below  and  to  one  at  the  sur- 
face. As  soon  as  it  comes  near  the  surface,  it 
turns  the  extremity  of  the  abdomen  upwards, 
and  exposes  a  portion  of  the  body  to  the  air 
for  an  instant,  then  with  a  jerk  it  snatches,  as 
it  were,  a  bubble  of  air,  which  is  attached 
not  only  to  the  hairs  which  cover  the  abdomen, 
but  is  held  on  by  the  two  hinder  legs,  which 
are  crossed  at  an  acute  angle  near  the  extrem- 
ity, this  crossing  of  the  legs  taking  place  the 
instant  the  bubble  is  seized.  The  little  crea- 
ture then  descends  more  rapidly  and  regains  its 


9°  ABOUT  SPIDERS 

cell,  always  by  the  same  route,  turns  the  abdo- 
men within  it,  and  leaves  the  bubble." 

The  water  Spiders  feed  on  the  insects  which 
swarm  in  the  water,  eating  their  prey  in  their 
homes. 

Another  aquatic  Spider  builds  a  raft.  It 
gathers  together  a  mass  of  dry  leaves  and  sim- 
ilar things  which  will  float,  and  fastens  it  with 
silk  threads.  On  this  raft  it  sits,  floating  wher- 
ever the  winds  and  waters  carry  it.  When  the 
water  insects  come  to  the  top,  it  seizes  them 
before  they  can  escape.  Others  fly  over  the  sur- 
face for  their  prey,  and  fall  into  the  jaws  of  this 
Spider-wolf.  It  is  quite  large,  and  very  beauti- 
fully colored  and  marked. 

At  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  large  quanti- 
ties of  gossamer  threads  are  seen  floating, in  the 
air.  They  fall  upon  the  grass  and  streak  it 
with  fine  lines.  They  gather  on  the  trees. 
The  steamboat,  plowing  up  the  long  lanes  of 
water  through  forest  and  prairie,  gathers 
streamers  and  pennons  of  gossamer  on  every 
pole,  and  the  rough  helmsman  frets  as  the  films 


MAKING    GOSSAMER.  91 

catch  upon  his  eyebrows,  and  dim  his  sight. 
All  this  is  made  by  Spiders.  They  climb  to 
the  tops  of  trees,  and  pushing  the  gossamer  out 
at  their  spinners,  let  it  float  upon  the  air  until 
its  buoyancy  is  enough  to  carry  them  away. 
Balloonists  have  found  these  Spiders  floating  in 
the  air  above  their  cars. 

Says  Gilbert  White :  "  Every  day,  in  fine 
autumnal  weather,  do  I  see  these  Spiders  shoot- 
ing out  their  web  and  mounting  aloft.  They 
will  go  off  from  your  finger  if  you  will  take 
them  into  your  hand;  last  summer  one  alighted 
on  my  book,  as  1  was  reading  in  the  parlor, 
and  running  to  the  top  of  the  page  and  shoot- 
ing out  a  web,  took  a  departure  from  thence. 
Bat  what  I  most  wondered  at  was,  that  it  went 
off  with  considerable  swiftness,  in  a  place  where 
no  air  was  stirring;  and  I  am  sure  I  did  not 
assist  it  with  my  breath ;  so  that  these  little 
crawlers  seem  to  have,  while  mounting,  some 
locomotive  power,  without  the  use  of  wings, 
and  move  faster  in  the  air  than  the  air  itself." 

There  are  spiders  which  lie  concealed  in  a 


92  ABOUT  SPIDERS. 

rolled  up  leaf,  and  seize  any  insect  which  comes 
in  the  way.  Others  lurk  in  the  cup  of  a  flower, 
and  eat  the  fly  that  conies  for  honey.  Some 
hunting  Spiders  leap  upon  their  prey  like 
tigers,  and  have  a  way  of  jumping  sideways. 
They  steal  upon  their  game  as  a  cat  steals  upon 
a  bird.  If  the  fly  moves,  the  Spider  moves  too 
—  backwards,  forwards,  or  sideways  —  until  the 
two  seem  to  be  moved  by  one  unseen  spirit. 
If  the  fly  takes  wing  and  alights  behind  the 
Spider,  it  turns  about  with  the  swiftness  of 
thought,  too  quick  for  the  eye  to%  follow. 
When  its  movements  have  brought  it  within 
reach  of  its  victim,  its  leap  is  sudden  and  deadly 
as  lightning. 

The  Spider  is  very  watchful  over  its  young. 
Most  species  do  not  lay  eggs  until  two  years 
old.  Then  the  female  prepares  a  cocoon  of 
silk,  very  thick  and  strong,  in  which  she  places 
from  fifty  to  a  hundred  salmon-colored  eggs. 
This  sack  is  often  made  of  two  dish-shaped 
pieces,  fastened  together  at  the  edges.  Some- 
times it  is  hidden  in  the  crevice  of  a  wall,  or 


CARE  OF  THEIR  EGGS.  93 

under  the  edge  of  a  loose  board.  In  this  case 
it  is  securely  fastened  by  a  net-work  thrown 
over  and  about  it.  It  is  often  carried  about  by 
the  mother,  attached  beneath  the  abdomen,  or 
held  in  the  jaws  as  a  cat  carries  her  kitten. 

If  any  attempt  is  made  to  carry  away  this 
treasure,  which  the  mother  always  watches 
over,  she  resists  it  to  the  utmost.  When  taken 
from  her,  she  becomes  listless,  as  if  stupefied; 
if  restored,  she  seizes  it  eagerly,  and  runs  away 
with  it  to  a  safer  place.  When  the  young  are 
hatched  they  remain  in  the  cocoon  until,  at  the 
proper  time,  the  mother  bites  it  open  and  sets 
them  free.  Even  then  they  do  not  leave  her, 
but  remain,  like  a  brood  of  chickens,  under  her 
care.  She  often  takes  them  upon  her  back; 
she  provides  food  for  them,  and  leads  them 
about  until  they  have  age  and  strength  to  shift 
for  themselves. 

The  gentleman  who  obtained  the  silk  spin- 
ners from  Charleston  harbor,  procured  a  large 
number  of  these  egg  sacks,  and  in  a  short  time 
had  a  brood  of  about  two  hundred  thousand.  One 


94  ABOUT  SPIDERS. 

bright  June  day  he  left  them  on  a  tray  in  the 
sun,  and  on  his  return  found  his  brood  —  baked. 
A  supply  of  Spiders,  which  he  kept  in  little 
paper  boxes,  furnished  a  fresh  harvest  of  eggs, 
from  which  about  seven  thousand  were  hatched. 
They  appeared  in  about  a  month  after  the  eggs 
were  laid.  For  a  long  time  they  seemed 
to  eat  nothing;  then  they  shed  their  skins, 
and  began  to  grow.  As  they  grew,  their 
numbers  diminished,  and  it  began  to  be  evident 
that  they  were  eating  each  other.  Shut  up  in 
the  sacks  they  had  nothing  else  to  eat,  and  the 
weaker  ones  were  a  prey  to  the  stronger.  They 
were  then  placed  in  inverted  glass  jars,  with 
wet  sponges  in  the  mouths,  and  were  fed  with 
flies,  bugs,  and  afterwards  with  such  flesh  as 
bits  of  chicken's  liver.  Some  of  the  first  fam- 
ily brought  north  seemed  to  go  into  a  decline 
and  die,  for  no  cause  which  their  keeper  could 
understand.  He  tried  various  expedients  with 
them,  but  nothing  did  any  good.  At  last  he 
thought  of  giving  them  water,  although  he  had 
never  known  that  Spiders  drank  water.  A 


BRUGES  SPIDER.  95 

drop  was  given  on  the  tip  of  a  camel's  hair 
pencil,  and  was  eagerly  seized.  All  the  Spi- 
ders drank,  some  taking  several  drops.  Be- 
sides water  to  drink  they  required  some  mois- 
ture in  the  air.  They  became  quite  tame; 
would  eat  and  drink  from  a  bit  of  stick,  or  a 
pin,  and  when  stroked  gently,  would  raise  up 
the  back  like  a  cat,  or  put  up  a  foot  to  push 
away  the  finger. 

As  was  said  before,  the  Spider  is  a  type  of 
industry  and  perseverance,  no  less  than  the  ant 
or  the  bee.  The  Scottish  farmers  love  to  tell 
that  King  Eobert  Bruce  once  learned  a  lesson 
of  endurance  from  a  Spider.  While  wandering 
on  the  wild  hills  of  Arran,  he  passed  a  night 
within  a  poor,  deserted  cottage.  He  threw 
himself  down  upon  a  heap  of  straw,  and  lay, 
with  his  hands  under  his  head,  unable  to  sleep, 
but  gazing  up  at  the  rafters  of  the  hut,  fes- 
tooned with  cobwebs.  From  long  and  dreamy 
thoughts  about  his  hopeless  condition,  and  the 
many  evils  which  he  had  met,  he  was  roused 
to  uotice  the  efforts  of  a  poor  Spider,  which  had 


9  ABOUT  SPIDERS. 

begun  its  work  with  the  first  gray  light  of 
morning.  The  insect  was  trying  to  swing  by 
its  thread  from  one  rafter  to  another,  but  it 
constantly  failed,  each  time  swinging  back  to 
the  point  from  which  it  sprang.  Twelve  times 
the  little  creature  made  the  attempt,  and  twelve 
times  it  failed.  Without  delay  it  tried  again, 
and  the  rafter  was  gained.  "  I  accept  the  les- 
son," said  Bruce,  springing  to  his  feet ;  "  I 
shall  again  venture  my  life  to  win  the  battle 
for  my  country."  And  the  victory  was  won. 


WINGED     ANT-LION  .—Jfyrmeleo  lUwluloide*. 


ABOUT     D 


BOUT        JR  AGON-FLIES. 


ARTICULATA. —  INSECTA. 

ORDER  —  Neuroptera.    Net-winged. 

FAMILY  —  Libellulidce. 


LONG,  slender  insect,  with 
large  head,  swollen  on  either 
side  by  a  huge  eye,  flying  with 
four  broad,  gauzy  wings,  is  a 
frequent  mid-summer  visitor. 
He  and  his  mates  range  up  and 
down  in  the  air,  pausing  here 
a  moment,  then  darting  away  in 
the  most  unexpected  manner.  He  comes  into 
the  house  with  a  great  buzz,  and  makes  vain 
attempts  to  fly  back  to  free  air  through  the 
window  pane.  He  seems  to  have  no  particular 


1 00  ABOUT  DRA GON-FLIES. 

business,  except  flying  about,  buzzing,  and 
bumping  his  head.  The  children  call  him  a 
Darning-needle,  because  his  body  is  straight 
arid  slender;  and  as  its  long  and  flexible  tail 
twists  about  more  than  seems  pleasant,  they  are 
afraid  of  it;  they  believe  it  can  sting,  and  some 
call  it  a  Horse-stinger.  But  the  creature  has 
no'  sting,  and  can  do  no  harm  to  man  or  beast. 
In  the  insect  world  he  well  deserves  his  name, 
Dragon-fly,  for  he  devours  multitudes  of  other 
insects.  When  dancing  in  the  sunshine,  or  in 
the  twilight  shadows,  he  is  busy  catching  gnats, 
or  sweeping  up  other  minute  specks  which  fly 
in  the  air.  He  is  not  content,  even,  with  such 
small  game,  but  is  the  eagle  among  insects, 
pouncing  upon  unwary  butterflies,  which  he 
drags  to  some  bush  to  devour  at  his  leisure. 
The  water  is  his  birth-place.  The  eggs,  like 
a  bunch  of  grapes,  sink  to  the  bottom  and 
hatch  out  six-footed  larvae,  with  dusky  brown 
skins.  Like  many  other  grubs,  when  these 
youngsters  grow  too  large  for  their  clothes, 
they  split  them  open,  throw  them  away,  and 


LARVA  AND  PUPA.  IOI 

soon  appear  in  a  new  and  larger  suit.  When 
full  grown,  a  pair  of  scales  appears  on  the  back, 
which  is  a  mere  suggestion  of  wings.  The 
head  is  then  armed  with  a  long,  jointed  trunk, 
fitted  at  the  end  with  a  pair  of  strong  hooks. 
While  at  rest,  this  trunk  lies  folded  over  the 
face,  like  a  mask ;  if  any  prey  passes  by,  the 
trunk  leaps  forth,  and  the  hooks  grapple  the 
unwary  victim. 

The  Dragon-fly  lives  as  larva  and  pupa,  two 
years.  When  ready  to  come  out  into  the 
world,  it  climbs  to  the  top  of  some  water  plant, 
into  the  sunshine.  The  eyes  show  when  the 
change  is  coming.  Instead  of  dark,  dull  places 
where  eyes  might  be,  they  become  clear  and 
bright,  and  the  real  eye  shines  through  the 
mask.  If  one  can  be  found  at  this  crisis,  and 
fastened  where  the  change  can  be  seen,  it  will 
yield  much  amusement. 

First  a  rent  comes  in  the  skin  along  the 
back,  to  the  face;  here  another  rent  opens 
crosswise,  over  the  eyes.  Now  that  he  has 
burst  his  case,  he  carefully  picks  out  his  legs, 


102  ABOUT  DRAGON-FLIES. 

and  then  hangs  hi-s  head  down,  motionless,  as 
if  dead.  He  has  only  hung  his  moist  legs  out 
to  dry.  Presently  he  lifts  himself  again,  grasps 
the  case  with  his  feet,  and  slowly  draws  out  his 
long  tail,  and  wet,  sodden  wings.  But  the  tail 
has  not  its  full  length,  and  the  wings  are  folded. 
He  rests  awhile;  the  tail  expands,  the  wings 
unfold,  and  as  they  harden,  glisten  like  sheets 
of  mica.  "While  in  this  wet  condition,  the 
Dragon-fly  is  careful  not  to  touch  them,  even 
with  its  body ;  for  a  wrong  twist  now  would 
make  a  deformity  for  ever.  The  change  may 
be  passed  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  or  may  take 
several  hours,  according  to  the  clearness  of  the 
air.  When  the  wings  are  fully  spread  and 
hardened,  and  the  bright  colors  of  the  mailed 
body  are  fully  set,  he  leaves  his  twig  and  begins 
his  long  journey  through  the  air.  Like  a 
newly  commissioned  Alabama,  armed  and  sup- 
plied for  a  long  cruise  upon  the  high  seas,  he 
sets  forth,  a  piratical  rover,  to  capture,  plunder, 
and  destroy. 

While  living  in  the  water,  this  creature  has 


HOW  THE  LARVA  MOVES.  103 

a  way  of  moving  about  peculiar  to  itself.  If 
seen  at  the  bottom  of  clear  water,  it  seems  to 
move  merely  because  it  wills  to  move,  with 
nothing  like  walking  or  swimming  —  it  goes. 
But  if  a  few  grains  of  sand  be  near,  they  seem 
to  will  to  go  backward,  at  the  same  time.  Pat 
one  of  the  larvae  into  water  colored  with  milk 
or  indigo,  and  then  suddenly  change  him  into 
clear  water,  and  the  motion  will  be  explained. 
He  will  be  seen  to  spirt  a  stream  of  colored 
fluid  into  the  clear  water,  and  it  will  be  found 
that  he  has  in  his  abdomen  a  set  of  force 
pumps.  These  fill  slowly  from  the  fluid  in 
which  the  larva  floats,  and  then  drive  out  the 
water  backwards,  while  the  same  force  which 
ejects  the  water,  pushes  the  insect  forwards. 
Some  English  ship-builders  propose  to  drive 
steamships  by  this  plan,  which  it  may  be  they 
borrowed  from  this  very  insect.  They  take 
water  through  the  bottom  of  the  ship,  and  then 
drive  it  out  astern  by  powerful  steam  pumps. 
In  this  way  they  expect  to  force  the  vessel  rap- 
idly through  the  water. 


104  ABOUT  DRAGON-FLIES. 

We  nave  mentioned  the  large  globes  of  eyes 
on  either  side  of  the  Dragon-fly's  head.  Under 
a  small  lens  these  eyes  seem  to  be  covered  with 
fine  net-work.  A  magnifier  of  larger  power 
shows  that  the  surface  is  composed  of  regular, 
six-sided  faces,  so  that  it  resembles  a  minute 
crystal  honey  comb.  Farther  examination 
shows  that  each  eye  contains  more  than  12,000 
of  these  lenses,  and  that  what  we  call  the  eye  is 
only  a  bundle  of  eyes. 

Opticians  grind  a  multitude  of  flat  faces  on  a 
rounded  bit  of  glass,  which  they  set  in  a  tube. 
Any  thing  seen  through  this  tube  seems  multi- 
plied as  many  times  as  there  are  faces  on  the 
glass;  the  image  is  very  pretty,  but  very  much 
confused.  We  need  not  suppose,  however,  that 
the  Dragon-fly  is  puzzled  by  his  compound  eye, 
or  that  he  sees  more  than  one  image.  Although 
we  have  two  eyes,  we  do  not  see  double.  The 
nerves  which  carry  word  to  the  brain  that  the 
eyes  see  something,  meet  just  behind  the  eyes, 
and  perhaps,  for  this  reason,  report  but  one 
object.  If  two  eyes  thus  unite  their  results,  so 


MULTIPLE  ETES.  1 05 

that  we  do  not  see  double,  in  the  same  way 
25,000  eyes  in  one  head  may  combine  all  their 
results.  The  fact  that  we  see  so  many  images 
in  the  multiplying  glass  will  not  trouble  us  if 
we  remember  that  our  own  eye  is  behind  the 
glass,  instead  of  a  bundle  of  nerves,  and  there 
is  no  way  of  gathering  all  the  images  into 
one. 

There  are  many  species  of  Dragon-flies, 
strong  of  wing,  and  beautifully  colored  with 
bright  blue,  green,  scarlet,  glossy  black,  or 
transparent  white.  The  body  is  often  of  one 
hue,  while  the  wings  are  barred  or  spotted  with 
others.  Often  the  male  and  female  of  the  same 
species  are  variously  marked.  These  bright 
colors  always  vanish  when  the  animal  dies ;  in 
a  few  days  the  most  brilliant  specimens  will 
have  faded  to  a  blackish  brown.  The  only 
way  to  preserve  them  is  to  remove  the  interior 
substance,  and  fill  the  space  with  paint  of  the 
proper  color,  and  this  method  does  not  repay 
the  time  and  labor  spent. 
.  One  tribe  belonging  to  this  family  are  called 


106  ABOUT  DRAGON-FLIES. 

Scorpion-flies.  The  rings  near  the  end  of  the 
tail  are  quite  slender,  and  move  easily  in  any 
direction.  The  last  ring  is  stout  and  thick,  and 
bears  a  strong  pair  of  forceps.  When  the  fly 
is  at  rest,  the  tail  is  curved  over  its  back  like 
that  of  a  puppy,  but  when  alarmed  it  flourishes 
the  tail  in  a  very  alarming  style,  the  forceps 
snapping  as  if  something  serious  would  happen 
if  there  were  a  chance. 

Some  other  members  of  the  order  Neuroptera, 
or  nerve-winged  insects,  are  worthy  of  notice. 

The  large,  prominent  eyes  of  the  Lace-wings, 
or  Golden-eyes,  glow  with  changeful  flames  of 
gold  and  ruby,  as  if  on  fire.  These  insects  are 
small,  but  their  brilliancy  and  their  broad 
wings  make  them  quite  conspicuous.  The 
larva  of  the  lace-wing  is  very  voracious.  It  is 
particularly  fond  of  the  plant  lice,  and  .there- 
fore is  quite  useful.  A  single  one  will  clear  a 
densely  crowded  twig  in  a  short  time.  It  will, 
however,  turn  and  eat  the  eggs  in  which  its 
brothers  are  ready  to  hatch,  if  it  can  reach 
them.  To  prevent  this,  the  instinct  of  the 


THE  ANT-LION.  107 

mother  makes  her  spin  a  slender  thread,  like  a 
bit  of  bristle,  about  a  third  of  an  inch  long  ; 
the  lower  end  of  this  thread  she  glues  fast  to 
a  twig,  and  on  the  upper  end  she  leaves  an  egg 
about  the  size  and  shape  of  the  letter  0.  So 
she  places  a  dozen  in  a  group,  which  is  easily 
mistaken  for  a  patch  of  moss.  For  a  long  time 
these  were  really  supposed  to  be  a  variety  of 
moss,  nobody  suspecting  that  they  were  the 
eggs  of  an  insect.  When  the  first  hatches,  he 
falls  down  upon  the  twig.  He  reaches  up  to 
breakfast  on  another  egg,  but  he  can  not  climb 
the  slender  waving  stalk,  BO  he  creeps  away, 
and  finds  his  meal  elsewhere. 

A  somewhat  celebrated  insect  of  this  family 
is  the  Ant-lion.  In  its  perfect  state  it  much 
resembles  the  Dragon-fly,  but  the  wings  are 
broader  and  softer.  -It  is  most  remarkable 
when  a  larva.  Then  it  resembles  a  flattened 
maggot,  with  long  legs  and  large  jaws ;  but  the 
legs  are  of  little  use  for  walking,  as  it  moves 
mostly  by  means  of  its  abdomen.  It  is  very 
slow,  and  yet  very  voracious,  living  on  insects 


io8 


ABOUT  DRAGON-FIES. 


much  quicker  than  itself,  which  it  catches  alive. 
As  it  can  not  take  them  in  open  chase,  it  sets 
an  ambush  by  digging  a  pit,  and  lying  con- 
cealed at  the  bottom.  In  this  work  it  begins 
at  the  outside.  It  presses  its  body  down  into 
the  sand,  and  then  backs  round  in  a  circle, 
plowing  the  earth  and  throwing  it  outward. 
So  it  goes  round  and  round,  drawing  one  fur- 
row after  another  until  it  comes  to  the  middle. 
This  plowing  is  repeated  several  times,  as  long 
as  it  will  turn  the  earth  outward.  Then  it 
begins  to  dig.  It  goes  to  the  middle,  and  flings 
the  sand  out  with  its  head,  and  smoothes  the 
sides  of  the  pit,  down  to  the  centre,  into  a  reg- 
ular funnel.  If  it  finds  small  stones,  it  jerks 
them,  one  by  one,  over  the  wall.  If  too  large 
for  that,  it  takes  them  on  its  back  and  carries 
them  up  the  slope,  and  tumbles  them  over  the 
edge.  Sometimes,  after  toilsomely  tugging  until 
a  stone  is  nearly  at  the  top,  the  pebble  topples 
off  and  rolls  to  the  bottom  again,  plowing  a  fur- 
row as  it  goes  down.  The  Ant-lion  tries  again, 
pushing  the  load  up  the  same  furrow;  he 


THE  ANT-LION'S  PIT-FALL.  KX) 

works  on  until  the  stone  is  removed,  or  until 
repeated  failure  satisfies  him  that  he  is  not 
equal  to  the  task.  Then  he  leaves  the  unfin- 
ished pit,  and  digs  another. 

When  finished,  the  pit  is  about  two  inches 
deep,  and  ihree  inches  in  diameter.  The  Ant- 
lion  lies  at  the  bottom,  only  his  jaws  being  in 
sight.  When  an  ant,  journeying  that  way, 
looks  over  the  edge,  the  loose  sand  under  its 
feet  begins  to  slide,  and  lets  it  down  into  the 
pit.  It  struggles  to  regain  the  top,  but  that 
only  hastens  its  fall,  and  down  it  goes  into  the 
jaws  of  the  hungry  monster  which  waits  for  it 
at  the  bottom.  If  the  ant  succeeds  in  climbing 
up,  and  is  likely  to  get  out  of  danger,  the  Ant- 
lion  shovels  sand  upon  its  head,  and  flings  it 
after  the  escaping  insect.  Overwhelmed  by 
this  storm  the  ant  is  borne  to  the  bottom. 
When  the  juices  are  sucked  out  of  him,  the 
empty  skin  is  tossed  over  the  mound,  and  the 
pit  is  put  in  order  for  the  next  unfortunate. 

Thus  the  Ant-lion  lives  for  about  two  years. 
Then  it  wraps  itself  in  a  covering  made  of  sand 


HO  ABOUT  DRA G ON- FLIES. 

glued  together,  and  bound  by  a  kind  of  silk 
which  it  spins.  In  about  three  weeks  it  emer- 
ges in  its  perfect  form. 

Another  of  the  Neuroptera  is  the  May-fly,  or 
Ephemera.  The  early  days  of  summer  bring 
vast  swarms  of  them,  which  vanish  as  suddenly 
as  they  come ;  often  a  single  day  is  sufficient 
for  the  entire  round  of  their  perfect  life.  Hence 
the  name  Ephemera — "(lasting)  for  a  day."  It 
is,  however,  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  a  day  is 
enough  for  the  entire  life  of  the  insect  from  the 
egg  to  the  grave.  On  the  contrary,  two  years 
are  passed  in  the  water  before  the  winged  form 
is  assumed.  Like  other  creatures  that  flit  a 
few  brief  days  about  watering  places  —  although 
it  does  not  carry  a  Saratoga  trunk  full  of  finery 
—  it  can  not  do  without  a  change  of  dress.  So, 
after  dancing  its  set  in  one  costume,  it  retires 
to  its  chamber — a  twig  —  kicks  off  its  garment, 
and  appears  in  another,  bright  and  new,  with 
larger  wings,  broader  plumes,  and  longer  train. 

In  both  dresses,  the  May-fly  is  very  eagerly 
taken  by  fish,  and  adroit  anglers  use  them,  or 


SECTION  OF  TERMITES'  NEST. 


TERMITES.  H3 

imitate  them,  when  they  would  bring  wary  old 
trout  from  their  deepest  hiding  places.  Very 
much  alike  —  Newport  belles,  and  Newport 
May-flies ! 


JERMITES 

THE  remarkable  insects  known  as  Termites, 
or  White  Ants,  though  commonly  called  ants, 
are  not  classed  with  that  order,  but  among 
the  Neuroptera,  on  account  of  the  structure 
of  their  wings  in  their  perfect  stage.  Like 
the  ants,  the  Termites  live  in  societies,  which 
become  immensely  large.  They  build  for 
themselves  huge  cities,  great  mounds,  coni- 
cal like  sugar-loaves,  sometimes  twenty  feet 
high,  and  more  than  a  hundred  feet  in  cir- 
cuit. They  make  these  of  clay,  and  so  solid 
and  strong,  that  the  wild  cattle  climb  on  them 
without  breaking  through.  Within  they  are 
full  of  chambers  and  passages.  There  are 


114  ABOUT  TERMITES. 

apartments  for  the  king  and  queen ;  nurseries 
for  the  young;  garrisons  of  soldiers;  dwellings 
for  workmen,  and  storehouses  for  food.  These 
edifices  are  said  to  surpass  the  dwellings  of 
ants,  bees,  and  beavers,  as  much  as  the  archi- 
tecture of  Europeans  excels  the  rude  huts  of 
Indians  or  Bushmen.  Some  species  build  in 
the  ground,  partly  beneath  and  partly  above 
the  surface;  others  build  on  branches  of  trees, 
and  often  at  a  great  height. 

One  of  the  best  known  species  is  the  Termes 
bellicosus  of  Africa.  In  Senegal,  and  parts  of 
Central  Africa,  their  numerous  clusters  of  hills 
resemble  the  huts  in  the  native  villages.  The 
first  hill  which  they  make,  in  beginning  a 
settlement,  rises  above  the  ground  perhaps  a 
foot.  While  this  grows  larger  and  higher, 
others  spring  up  at  a  little  distance,  and  still 
others,  until  a  circle  of  small  hills  surrounds 
the  larger  one  in  the  centre.  These  all  keep 
on  growing;  presently  they  join  each  other, 
and  the  middle  cone  includes  or  covers  up  the 
outer  ones.  Mean  while  the  inside  works 


THEIR  BUILDINGS.  1 1 5 

which  were  first  made,  are  pulled  down,  and 
the  materials  are  used  for  building  the  outer 
cones.  They  have  no  precise  form,  the  only 
care  being  to  make  them  firm  and  strong. 
Until  they  are  six  or  eight  feet  high  they  are 
quite  bare,  but  after  that  they  increase  more 
slowly,  and  grass  often  grows  upon  them.  In 
the  hot  season,  when  the  grass  becomes  dry, 
the  whole  resembles  a  large  haystack. 

The  royal  apartment,  as  the  most  important 
room  of  the  house,  is  placed  in  the  centre.  It 
is  shaped  like  half  of  an  egg,  cut  lengthwise, 
and  is  at  first  about  an  inch  long;  it  is  after- 
wards enlarged  to  suit  the  increased  size  of  the 
queen,  until  it  is  six  or  eight  inches  long,  or 
even  more.  The  openings  through  the  walls 
and  roof  of  this  room  are  large  enough  to 
admit  the  workers  which  are  in  attendance, 
but  the  royal  occupants  can  never  pass  out; 
they  are  life-long  prisoners.  A  set  of  cham- 
bers about  the  royal  cell  contains  the  soldiers 
who  protect,  and  the  workers  who  serve  the 
regal  prisoners.  These  rooms  are  connected 


II 6  ABOUT  TERMITES. 

together;  they  extend  a  foot  or  two  all  round 
the  central  apartment.  They  are  surrounded 
by  the  nurseries  and  the  storehouses.  The 
latter  are  built  of  clay,  and  filled  with  gums 
and  similar  vegetable  substances.  The  walls 
and  partitions  of  the  nurseries  are  made  of 
woody  fibre,  cemented  together  by  the  saliva 
of  the  insect.  When  the  nest  is  small,  they  are 
near  the  royal  chamber.  As  the  family  grows, 
and  the  attendants  of  the  queen  become  more 
numerous,  the  nurseries  are  moved  farther 
away.  They  are  enclosed  in  clay  chambers, 
like  the  granaries,  and  the  wooden  partitions 
and  linings  would  seem  to  prevent  too  sudden 
changes  of  temperature. 

A  large  arched  open  space,  two  or  three  feet 
high,  is  left  under  the  central  dome,  with 
arched  passages  on  every  side,  which  allow  the 
warm  air  to  circulate  freely,  and  keep  the  nur- 
series at  a  proper  degree  of  heat.  The  shell 
which  forms  the  great  dome  is  traversed  by 
large  round  or  oval  passages,  several  inches 
wide.  These  ascend  spirally,  quite  to  the  top, 


UNDERGROUND  ROADS.  1 1 7 

opening  into  each  other,  and  into  the  central 
dome  at  proper  distances.  Other  passages  of 
less  size  connect  the  larger  ones,  and  others 
still  lead  far  away  under  ground.  Even  if  all 
the  Termites  within  a  hundred  yards  of  a  house 
were  destroyed,  those  which  live  farther  away 
would  extend  their  galleries  to  the  house,  eat 
up  the  merchandise  in  it,  and  destroy  every 
thing.  If  they  can  not  go  under  ground  in  the 
way  they  wish,  they  make  pipes  along  the  sur- 
face, of  the  same  material  as  their  nest;  they 
often  carry  these  covered  ways  above  ground 
over  the  deeper  paths,  and  make  frequent  com- 
munications between  them,  so  that  they  can 
escape  by  one,  if  they  are  attacked  in  the 
other. 

Each  village  of  Termites  has  a  king  and 
queen,  an  army  of  soldiers,  and  a  population 
of  laborers.  There  are  about  a  hundred  work- 
ers to  one  soldier;  they  are  about  a  quarter 
of  an  inch  long,  very  busy  and  very  swift.  The 
soldiers  are  half  an  inch  long,  and  as  large  as 
fifteen  of  the  workers.  The  winged  or  perfect 


n8 


ABOUT  TERMITES. 


insects  are  nearly  an  inch  long,  and  their  wings 
spread  above  two  inches  and  a  half.  They  are 
equal  in  bulk  to  two  soldiers.  Tha  young  Ter- 
mites come  out  of  the  nest  just  after  the  first 
shower  has  opened  the  rainy  season.  The  im- 
mense swarms  fill  the  air  as  with  dense  white 
snow  flakes.  Every  living  thing  seems  to  be 
their  enemy.  The  ants  fall  upon  them  and 
eat  them ;  birds  come  in  flocks  and  pick  them 
up;  reptiles  and  ant-eaters  devour  them,  and 
the  black  men  gather  them  as  the  greatest  deli- 
cacy. Not  one  pair  in  a  hundred  thousand 
escapes  alive,  but  that  pair  will,  by  and  by,  pro- 
duce a  hundred  thousand  a  day. 

While  the  winged  insects  are  fl}ing,  and 
being  eaten,  the  workers  are  running  about  on- 
the  ground  searching  for  them.  If  a  pair  is 
found,  they  are  at  once  chosen  king  and  queen, 
and  their  new  subjects  proceed  to  build  them  a 
house.  They  are  shut  up  in  a  little  clay  cham- 
ber, with  only  one  small  entrance,  too  small  to 
allow  them  to  pass  out.  Presently  the  female 
begins  to  enlarge  in  a  wonderful  manner;  and 


THE  QUEEN. 

the  house  has  to  be  enlarged  to  correspond. 
In  time,  it  is  thought  about  two  years,  she  is 
about  three-fourths  of  an  inch  wide  and  three 
inches  long  —  specimens  have  been  found  of 
twice  that  length.  Her  body  is  now  oblong, 
banded  at  intervals  of  half  an  inch  with  dark 
muscles.  The  transparent  skin  is  of  a  fine 
cream  color,  through  which  the  intestines,  and 
the  motion  of  the  fluids,  may  be  clearly  seen. 
When  she  has  reached  this  size,  she  produces 
about  eighty  thousand  eggs  a  day.  The  attend- 
ant workers  carry  these  away  to  the  nurseries, 
where  they  are  hatched,  and  the  young  pro- 
vided with  every  thing  needed,  until  they  are 
old  enough  to  shift  for  themselves. 

When  a  person  enters  a  piece  of  ground 
which  is  marked  by  many  of  the  covered  ways 
of  these  insects,  he  hears  an  alarm  given  by  dis- 
tinct hisses.  After  that  he  may  search  the 
paths  for  Termites  in  vain ;  they  have  escaped 
by  the  underground  lines.  The  tunnels  are 
made  large  enough  for  passing  and  repassing 
without  trouble.  They  serve  as  shelter  from 


120  ABOUT  TERMITES. 

light  and  air,  and  particularly  from  the  attacks 
of  other  ants.  When  driven  from  these  defen- 
ces the  ants  pounce  upon  them,  and  carry 
them  to  their  own  nests  to  feed  their  young 
ones.  If  the  defence  is  broken,  the  work- 
ers at  once  set  about  repairing  it,  and  even 
if  three  or  four  yards  is  destroyed,  the  place 
will  be  rebuilt  before  the  next  morning.  If 
the  gallery  is  often  destroyed,  it  will  be  given 
up  and  another  made,  unless  it  leads  to  some 
favorite  plunder.  The  main  roads  are  made 
deep  under  ground,  going  under  the  very  foun- 
dations of  houses  and  stores,  and  come  up 
under  the  floors,  or  through  the  posts  on  which 
the  building  rests.  While  some  are  boring  the 
posts  through  and  through,  and  taking  out  all 
their  fibres,  others  climb  the  outside  and  enter 
the  roof.  If  they  find  thatch,  which  they  seem 
to  like  very  well,  they  bring  up  clay  and  make 
covered  ways  in  and  through  the  roof  as  long 
as  it  will  stand.  Thus  they  carry  away,  bit  by 
bit,  every  sill.,  and  post,  and  beam,  floor,  ceil- 
ing, and  partition.  The  outside  seems  firm 


ONCE  MORE  UNTO  THE  BREACH.  121 

and  sound,  but  the  whole  will  crumble  at  a 
touch.  Sometimes  they  seem  to  know  that  a 
post  sustains  weight,  and  then  they  fill  up  the 
cavities  which  they  make  with  clay,  packing  it 
in  more  solidly  than  man  could.  The  posts  are 
found  filled  with  material  as  hard  and  compact 
as  many  kinds  of  building  stone.  They  will 
eat  the  very  mat  on  which  a  man  sleeps.  They 
carry  away  all  the  wood  of  his  strong  box,  leav- 
ing a  shell  as  thin  as  paper.  They  devour  his 
books,  his  records,  his  correspondence.  If  a 
piece  of  furniture  be  left  too  long  in  one  place, 
nothing  will  remain  but  the  surface.  A  man 
may  be  rich  to-day,  and  poor  to-morrow  from 
their  ravages. 

It  is  a  difficult  task  to  destroy  them.  Any 
thing  which  is  washed  with  corrosive  sublimate 
theyvrespect,  but  this  can  not  be  applied  to 
many  things.  If  the  house  is  broken  into, 
the  soldiers  come  to  the  breach  to  defend 
it.  They  may  be  destroyed,  but  they  are 
not  those  which  do  the  mischief.  The 
workers  are  left,  and  the  business  of  the  village 


122  ABOUT  TERMITES. 

goes  on  just  as  before.  The  only  plan  which  is 
at  all  sure  is  to  continue  pulling  down  the  nest 
until  the  chamber  of  the  queen  is  found,  and 
she  is  destroyed.  Then  the  others  seem  to  be 
bewildered,  lose  courage,  and  finally  abandon 
the  nest. 

About  the  year  1780,  some  bales  of  goods, 
brought  from  St.  Domingo,  were  stored  in  La 
Rochelle,  and  in  other  French  seaports,  and 
thus  the  Termites  were  introduced.  At  La 
Rochelle  they  took  possession  of  the  arsenal, 
and  of  the  prefect's  house,  invading  rooms,  offi- 
ces, court,  and  garden.  A  stake  driven,  or  a 
plank  left,  in  the  garden,  was  destroyed  forth- 
with. One  fine  morning  the  records  of  the 
office  were  found  ruined,  though  not  the  least 
trace  of  damage  was  seen  on  the  outside.  The 
Termites  had  mined  the  wood  work,  pierced 
the  card-board,  and  eaten  up  parchments  and 
papers,  but  had  always  scrupulously  respected 
the  upper  leaf,  and  the  edges  of  all  the  leaves. 
By  chance  a  clerk  raised  one  of  the  leaves 
which  hid  this  ruin,  and  discovered  the  injury. 


ABOUT     WASPS. 


ARTICUL  ATA  —  INSECTA. 

ORDER  —  Hymenoptera.    Membrane- winged 

FAMILY  —  Vespidce.    Wasp-like. 


>ASPS  attract  attention,  for  two 
reasons.  They  have  sharp, 
venomous  stings,  which  they 
are  ready  to  use  on  small  pro- 
vocation, and  so  make  us 
afraid  of  them ;  and  they  build 
for  themselves  curious  homes, 
which  are  well  worth  our 
study.  Those  that  we  are  most  familiar  with, 
build  with  rnud,  or  paper. 

The  paper  makers  usually  choose  some  shel- 
tered place,  under  a  fence  rail,  in  a  bush,  in  a 


126 


ABOUT  WASPS. 


hollow  tree,  or  under  the  projecting  eaves  of  a 
house.  As  in  the  case  of  the  humble  bees,  the 
mother  of  the  family,  single  handed  and  alone, 
lays  the  foundation  of  the  house,  and  makes 
preparation  for  rearing  a  family.  She  and  a 
few  like  herself  are  the  sole  survivors  of  the 
thronged  cities  of  last  year.  All  the  others 
perished  at  the  coming  of  the  frost  which 
chilled  her  blood  within  her  and  kept  her  tor- 
pid till  the  warm  south  winds  of  spring  awoke 
her  from  her  long  sleep. 

"When  quite  a  little  boy,  the  writer  used  to 
go  away  alone  into  a  closet,  to  learn  his  les- 
son. The  blinds  at  the  only  window  in  the 
room  were  always  closed,  giving  barely  light 
enough  to  read,  when  sitting  on  a  stool 
beneath  it.  One  spring  day  a  Wasp  came 
between  the  blind  and  the  glass,  and  after 
much  buzzing  and  much  walking  about,  began 
to  build.  She  first  laid  down,  beneath  the  under 
edge  of  the  upper  sash,  a  patch  of  paper  about  a 
third  of  an  inch  in  diameter ;  then,  standing  on 
this,  she  raised  cup-shaped  edges  all  about  her, 


HO  W  THEY  BUILD.  127 

increasing  outward  and  downward,  like  the  cup 
of  an  acorn,  and  then  drawing  together  a  little, 
until  a  little  house  was  made  just  about  the  size 
and  shape  of  a  white  oak  acorn,  except  that 
she  left  a  hole  in  the  bottom  where  she  might 
go  in  and  out. 

Then  she  began  again  at  the  top,  and 
laid  another  cover  of  paper  over  the  first, 
just  as  far  away  as  the  length  of  her  legs 
made  it  easy  for  her  to  work.  Now  it  was 
clear  that  she  made  the  first  shell  as  a  frame 
or  a  scaffold  on  which  she  might  stand  to 
make  the  second.  She  would  fly  away,  and 
after  a  few  minutes  come  back,  with  nothing 
that  could  be  seen,  either  in  her  feet  or  in 
her  jaws.  But  she  at  once  set  to  laying  her 
paper-stuff,  which  came  out  of  her  mouth,  upon 
the  edge  of  the  work  she  had  made  before.  As 
she  laid  the  material  she  walked  backward, 
building  and  walking,  until  she  had  laid  a 
patch  a  little  more  than  an  eighth  of  an  inch 
wide  and  half  or  three-quarters  of  an  inch  long. 
"When  laid,  the  pulp  looked  like  wet  brown 


128  ABOUT  WASPS. 

paper,  which  soon  dried  to  an  ashen  gray,  and 
still  resembled  coarse  paper.  As  she  laid  the 
material,  she  occasionally  went  over  it  again, 
putting  a  little  more  here  and  there,  in  the  thin 
places;  generally  the  work  was  well  done  the 
first  time. 

So  the  work  went  on.  The  second  paper 
shell  was  about  as  large  as  a  pigeon's  egg; 
then  a  third  was  made  as  large  as  a  hen's  egg ; 
then  another  still  larger.  After  a  time  the 
wasp  seemed  to  go  inside  to  get  her  material, 
and  it  appeared  that  she  was  taking  down  the 
first  house,  and  putting  the  paper  upon  the  out- 
side. If  so,  she  did  not  bring  out  pieces  and 
patch  them  together  as  a  carpenter,  saving  of 
work,  would  do,  but  she  chewed  the  paper  up, 
and  made  fresh  pulp  of  it,  just  as  the  first  was 
made.  Of  course  the  boy  did  not  open  the 
window,  for  he  was  too  curious  to  see  the  work 
go  on,  and  then  he  was  afraid  of  the  sting. 
How  large  the  nest  grew  he  never  learned,  for 
he  soon  after  left  the  school,  and  saw  no  more 
of  it.  The  Algebra  and  Latin  which  he  learned 


FURNISHING  THE  INTERIOR.  129 

that  term  were  soon  forgotten  —  he  was  really 
too  young  to  study  either,  then  —  but  he  has 
not  forgotten  how  the  Wasp  made  her  nest. 

But  he  now  knows  pretty  nearly  what  the 
Wasp  did  after  his  oversight  of  her  ceased.  She 
made  the  nest  about  as  large  as  a  goose  egg, 
hanging  with  the  broad  end  up,  and  with  a 
hole  as  large  as  one's  little  finger  at  the  bottom. 
She  took  out  of  the  inside  all  but  two  or  three 
thicknesses,  and  then  she  built  paper  combs  in 
the  vacancy.  These  paper  combs  were  not 
made  like  the  combs  of  the  honey  bees,  stand- 
ing upon  edge,  with  the  cells  opening  in  the 
sides,  but  were  hung  to  the  top,  with  the  cells 
opening  downward.  She  made  first  a  stout 
post  or  rope  of  paper,  hanging  from  the  centre 
of  the  room.  To  the  end  of  this  rope  she  fast- 
ened a  floor,  which  she  spread  out  flat  and  level 
until  it  nearly  reached  the  sides  of  the  room. 
Underneath  this  floor,  which  might  quite  as 
well  be  called  a  roof,  or  a  ceiling,  she  made  a 
number  of  cells,  and  laid  an  egg  in  each.  It  is 
not  quite  settled  whether  she  builds  the  cells 


13°  ABOUT  WASPS. 

first,  and  then  lays  the  roof  over  them,  or 
whether  she  makes  the  roof  first,  and  then 
places  the  cells  under  it;  probably  the  two 
parts  are  made  nearly  at  the  same  time. 

As  soon  as  the  first  eggs  are  hatched,  the 
cares  of  the  mother  Wasp  increase,  for  now  she 
has  a  hungry  family  to  feed.  She  must  supply 
their  wants,  enlarge  their  cells,  make  more 
cells,  lay  more  eggs,  make  additions  to  the 
house,  and  all  together.  Was  ever  poor  human 
mother,  left  to  bring  up  a  family  alone,  more 
driven  with  work  ?  In  due  time  the  older 
grubs  are  full  grown,  stop  eating,  and  spin  a 
silken  cover  over  their  cells.  After  a  short  sea- 
son, having  passed  from  grubs  to  pupae,  and 
then  to  perfect  Wasps,  they  come  forth.  They 
take  the  heavy  work  upon  themselves,  and  the 
toil  goes  merrily  on.  Day  by  day  their  num- 
bers increase,  and  soon  the  mother  Wasp  has 
nothing  to  do  but  lay  eggs  in  the  cells  which 
her  children  have  made. 

When  the  first  tier  of  cells  is  full,  another 
is  made  below  it.  Several  pendant  cords 


WASPS'  FONDNESS  FOR  FLIES. 

similar  to  the  first,  are  fastened  to  various 
points  of  the  tier  above.  Cells  are  hung  upon 
them  as  before,  and  continually  increased  in 
number,  until  the  several  parts  unite  to  form 
a  second  complete  tier.  The  mouths  are 
placed  downwards,  and  the  roof  serves  as  a 
floor  on  which  the  Wasps  walk  when  taking 
care  of  the  young  brood.  As  among  the  hum- 
ble-bees, the  first  Wasps  that  come  out  are 
workers.  The  males  and  females  are  not  seen 
until  autumn.  A  large  nest  may  contain  seven 
or  eight  thousand  cells,  and  each  cell  is  occupied, 
on  the  average,  by  three  tenants  in  succession. 
All  the  young  grubs  have  to  be  fed ;  not  with 
honey,  as  young  bees  are  fed,  but  with  animal 
food,  usually  flies.  We  can  easily  see  that  a 
good  sized  Wasp's  nest,  or  vespiary,  may  be 
quite  a  serviceable  thing  about  the  house,  if,  in 
the  end,  the  Wasps  do  not  become  the  greater 
nuisance. 

Mr.  Wood  says  he  has  seen  pigs,  covered 
with  flies,  lying  in  the  warm  sunshine,  arid  the 
Wasps  pouncing  upon  them  and  carrying  them 


I32  ABOUT  WASPS. 

off.  It  was  a  curious  sight  to  watch  the  total 
indifference  of  the  pigs,  the  busy  clustering  of 
the  flies,  which  actually  blackened  the  hide  in 
some  places,  and  then  to  see  the  Wasp  just 
clear  the  wall,  dart  into  the  dark  mass,  and 
retreat  again  with  a  fly  in  its  fatal  grasp.  On 
the  average,  one  Wasp  came  every  ten  seconds, 
so  that  the  pig-sty  must  have  been  a  valuable 
store  house  for  them. 

The  Wasps  are  hearty  eaters,  as  well  as  their 
grubs.  They  prey  upon  other  insects,  sugar, 
meat,  honey,  and  fruit.  Indeed,  they  are  par- 
ticularly fond  of  ripe  fruit,  and  always  select 
the  finest  specimens,  just  when  they  are  in  their 
best  condition,  gnawing  holes  in  them,  and 
spoiling  them  for  the  table.  Still  it  may  be  a 
question  whether  the  good  they  do  in  destroy- 
ing flies  and  young  caterpillars  does  not  more 
than  pay  for  all  the  fruit  they  eat. 

The  nests  of  the  paper-making  Wasps  usu- 
ally vary  from  six  to  twelve  inchps  in  diameter. 
They  sometimes  become  very  much  larger.  A 
nest  is  preserved  in  a  museum  in  Oxford,  Eng- 


BEER  DRINKERS.  133 

land,  which  fills  a  glass  case  four  feet  high,  by 
two  feet  in  width.  It  is  turnip  shaped,  with  a 
large  knob  at  the  top  by  which  it  hangs.  This 
nest,  when  found,  was  about  live  inches  in 
diameter.  It  was  taken  into  a  house,  and  hung 
near  a  window  which  gave  the  builders  free 
passage  to  the  open  air.  There  was  no  danger 
in  this,  as  the  common  Wasp  has  a  much  better 
temper  than  the  hive  bee,  and  is  by  no  means 
as  capricious  in  the  use  of  his  sting.  Their  cap- 
tor was  disposed  to  give  them  every  means  of 
living,  and  supplied  them  daily  with  sugar  and 
beer.  They  consumed  daily  a  pound  of  sugar 
and  a  pint  of  beer.  With  plenty  to  eat  they  in- 
creased rapidly,  and  the  nest  grew  as  fast.  In 
the  chamber  above,  two  other  nests  had  been 
placed,  and  as  those  workmen  were  not  fed,  when 
they  found  that  their  kinsmen  below  were 
faring  so  sumptuously  every  day,  they  deserted 
their  own  houses,  and  joined  the  colony  on  the 
ground  floor. 

The    Chartergus   Wasp   of   Ceylon,   another 
paper  maker,   uses   its    nest  as   a  permanent 


134  ABOUT  WASPS. 

home,  the  same  family  living  in  it  from  year  to 
year.  This  home  is  enlarged  in  a  way  which 
keeps  its  shape,  and  allows  farther  increase 
without  trouble.  The  walls  are  shaped  like  the 
sides  of  a  cow  bell.  The  tiers  of  cells  extend 
from  side  to  side,  like  the  regular  floors  of  a 
house.  When  the  house  is  full,  another  set  of 
cells  is  built  beneath  the  lowest  floor,  the  wall 
is  lengthened  down  as  far,  and  a  new  floor  is 
made  to  shut  up  the  bottom ;  so  that  the  new 
house  is  the  old  one  with  a  new  story  under. 
In  fact,  probably  all  the  Wasps  learned  to 
build  by  reading  Gulliver's  Travels.  The  bells 
of  this  Wasp  are  usually  about  a  foot  long; 
one  is  described  which  was  six  feet  long,  and 
of  corresponding  width. 

A  South  American  Wasp  has  been  called 
Myrapetra.  It  builds  a  nest  of  a  dark,  blackish 
brown  substance,  like  papier  mdche.  The  out- 
side of  the  nest  is  thickly  studded  with  pro- 
jecting spikes  or  thorns.  Their  exact  use 
is  not  known;  some  have  thought  that 
they  are  to  protect  the  nest  from  wild  beasts ; 


MUD  BUILDERS.  135 

others  suggest  that  they  are  meant  to  conceal 
the  entrances.  The  tiers  of  cells  are  not  flat, 
but  shaped  like  inverted  bowls;  the  dishes 
grow  broader  and  flatter  towards  the  bottom  of 
the  nest. 

The  other  branch  of  the  Wasp  family  in- 
cludes the  Mud-diggers,  or  Dirt-daubers.  Up 
in  the  attic  of  any  old  house  in  our  country, 
east  or  west,  the  children  will  often  find,  stuck 
on  the  walls  and  rafters,  lumps  of  mud  of  vari- 
ous sizes  and  shapes.  Some  are  as  thick  as 
one's  finger,  others  as  large  as  one's  fist.  If 
one  of  these  shapeless  lumps  be  opened 
carefully,  it  will  be  found  to  be  a  mass  of 
cells,  each  lined  with  a  thin  coat  of  brittle, 
shelly  substance.  The  builders  of  these  cells 
are  commonly  called  mud  Wasps.  When 
one  of  these  masons  has  chosen  a  place,  and 
has  begun  to  work,  she  brings  in  her  jaws  a 
lump  of  soft  mud.  It  is  not  certain  where  she 
got  it  —  whether  she  gathered  some  dust  and 
moistened  it  with  the  liquid  of  her  mouth,  or, 


ABOUT  WASPS. 

as  some  think,  she  gathered  it  where  the  earth 
is  softened  by  the  wash  of  the  sink.  At  any 
rate,  she  has  kneaded  it  perfectly,  and  she 
spreads  it  as  easily  as  the  mason  lays  his  mor- 
tar. 

Mr.  Gosse  watched  a  Dauber,  and  tells  some 
curious  things  about  her.  The  first  cell  was 
nearly  done;  the  Wasp  had  just  closed  the 
mouth.  While  gone  for  more,  a  pin  was  thrust 
through  the  mud  into  the  cell.  When  the 
Wasp  came,  she  laid  her  mortar  over  the  hole, 
spreading  it  very  skillfully  and  evenly.  When 
gone  again,  the  pin  made  another  hole,  which 
she  closed  up ;  and  so  for  several  times. 
Finally  Madam  Wasp  got  angry,  and  began  to 
buzz  about,  trying  to  catch  the  house-flies  which 
were  near.  She  seemed  quite  certain  that 
they  had  done  the  mischief,  and  waited  after 
she  had  laid  more  mortar,  as  if  expecting  to 
"  catch  them  at  it,"  Then  Mr.  Gosse  broke  off 
a  large  piece  of  the  side  and  bottom,  showing 
the  grubs,  and  the  small  spiders  which  she  had 
tucked  in  for  her  children's  food.  This  breach 


A    WASP  IN  TROUBLE.  137 

she  repaired  as  quickly  as  possible,  in  two  or 
three  loads,  laying  the  mud  all  round  the  hole, 
and  closing  up  at  the  middle. 

Presently  she  began  to  build  another  cell, 
and  again  she  found  trouble.  A  tin-tack  was 
placed  in  the  mud,  just  where  she  would  lay 
the  next  load.  When  she  came  back,  she 
seemed  quite  "  bothered ;"  she  ran  back  and 
forth  over  the  cells  for  some  time,  with  the 
mud  in  her  jaws,  at  a  loss  what  to  do.  A 
hole  she  could  stop  up,  but  here  was  some- 
thing in  the  way.  If  she  should  lay  the 
mortar  in  its  place,  the  tack  would  be  more 
firmly  fixed.  If  she  should  place  it  else- 
where, it  would  be  wasted,  or  might  do  harm; 
if  she  would  try  to  remove  the  evil,  she  must 
lay  down  her  burden.  At  length  she  seized 
the  tin-tack  in  her  jaws  and  pulled  it  out,  drop- 
ping the  mud  as  she  did  it.  Next  time  she 
went  away,  a  bit  of  worsted  was  pressed  into 
the  mud,  which  made  still  more  serious  trou- 
ble, as  the  bit  which  she  could  seize  would 
yield  without  coming  away.  Still,  by  taking 


138  ABOUT  WASPS. 

hold  of  the  different  parts,  one  after  another, 
and  tugging  at  them  a  long  time,  and  by  walk- 
ing round  and  round  with  it  in  her  mouth,  she 
at  length  pulled  it  out. 

The  Dauber  Wasp  builds  the  walls  of  the 
cell,  and  lays  an  egg.  Then  she  finds  some 
spiders  of  a  beautiful  green  species,  and  puts 
them  in,  bringing  them  very  carefully  in  her 
jaws  and  feet.  These  she  walls  up  with  the 
egg,  and  the  grub,  when  hutched,  eats  up  the 
soft  parts  of  the  abdomen. 

"When  autumn  comes,  the  Wasps  seek  for 
hiding  places  in  the  crevices  of  houses,  where 
they  may  pass  the  torpid  months.  Sometimes 
they  crawl  away  where  their  presence  is  not 
desired  —  into  clothing,  and  between  sheets. 
An  acquaintance  had  a  beautiful  black  pointer 
dog,  named  Don.  Don  had  a  great  dislike  for 
black  "Wasps,  and  when  they  began  to  creep 
about,  looking  for  their  hiding  places,  he  killed 
very  many  of  them.  He  would  draw  back  his 
lips  from  his  teeth,  so  that  they  might  not  sting 
him,  and  then  snap  them  in  his  teeth,  throwing 


YELLOW    WASPS.  I39 

them  quickly  on  the  floor.  If  the  "Wasp  writhed 
or  crawled,  another  and  another  snap  was  sure 
to  follow,  until  the  crushed  insect  showed  no 
more  signs  of  life. 

A  large  and  fierce  variety  of  Wasps  is  called 
the  Hornet.  Its  sting  is  very  venomous,  and 
its  temper  none  of  the  best.  It  will  follow  a 
person,  single  handed,  with  great  perseverance, 
when  its  wrath  has  been  provoked. 

Another  very  tetchy  and  hot  tempered  little 
thing,  is  a  smaller  variety,  known  to  school 
boys  as  Yellow  Wasps.  They  are  usually  quiet 
enough  when  undisturbed,  but  woe  to  the  fool- 
ish boy  who  throws  a  stone,  or  thrusts  a 
stick  into  their  paper  hcruse.  The  angry  swarm 
issues  forth;  they  buzz  about  the  ruined  nest 
for  a  moment,  and  then,  discovering  the  author 
of  the  mischief,  they  fly  in  solid  column  to 
avenge  the  wrong.  If  the  unlucky  urchin  has 
not  speedily  taken  himself  far  away,  he  will 
have  good  cause  to  repent  an  injury  to  a  quiet 
and  unoffending,  if  not  inoffensive,  community. 
These  fellows  do  not  give  any  warning,  like  the 


14°  ABOUT  WASPS. 

honey  bee,  but  true  -as  an  arrow  to  the  mark, 
they  go  straight  at  you,  and  ear,  eye,  cheek,  lip 
—  the  part  hit,  suffers.  The  best  course  for 
the  boy  is  to  pocket  the  affront,  and  put  some 
aqua  ammonia,  also  called  spirits  of  hartshorn, 
on  the  wound.  Better  still,  let  the  Wasps  alone 
in  the  outset.  If  it  is  necessary  to  remove 
them,  put  a  wisp  of  straw  on  the  end  of  a  pole, 
and  burn  them  out  at  nightfall.  If  it  is  desired 
to  remove  a  nest  with  the  inhabitants,  for 
study,  the  Wasps  may  be  quieted  with  chloro- 
form, applied  at  the  bottom  of  the  nest,  by  a 
bunch  of  cotton. 


THE    MIGRATORY    LOCUST. 


GRASSHOPPER    LAYING    EGGS. 


ABOUT  L 


BOUT  LOCUSTS. 


ARTICULATA  —  INSBCTA. 

ORDER  —  Orikoptwa.    Straight-winged. 

FAMILY  —  Locustidce.    Locust-like. 


^OCUSTS  and  Grasshoppers  belong 
to  the  same  order,  and  few  but 
naturalists  know  the  differences 
between  them,  or  are  able  to  dis- 
tinguish the  species  of  either. 
They  have  the  same  general 
shape  —  a  long  body,  stiff,  folded, 
fan-like  wings,  under  straight, 
hard  wing-covers,  a  head  not  unlike  that  of  a 
horse,  and  long  legs,  the  last  pair  having  long 
and  very  strong  thighs,  with  which  they  leap 
very  far.  The  Arabs  say  that  the  Locust  was 


144  ABOUT  LOCUSTS. 

made  of  scraps  of  all  animals.  That  it  has  the 
head  of  the  horse,  the  horns  of  the  stag,  the 
eye  of  the  elephant,  the  neck  of  the  ox,  the 
breast  of  the  lion,  the  body  of  the  scorpion,  the 
hip  of  the  camel,  the  legs  of  the  stork,  the 
wings  of  the  eagle,  and  the  tail  of  the  dragon. 
The  wings  of  some  are  spotted,  and  the  spots 
have  been  supposed  to  foretell  future  events. 

Locusts  have  been  counted  among  the  most 
fearful  plagues  which  have  ever  punished  a 
nation.  In  Eastern  lands  they  have  appeared 
in  astonishing  numbers ;  their  swarms  have 
darkened  the  sun ;  they  have  eaten  every  green 
thing,  leaving  the  land  behind  them  black  as  if 
burned  with  fire.  They  are  not  even  content 
with  that  which  is  green,  but  devour  every 
thing  which  can  be  devoured — linen,  woolen, 
silk,  leather,  the  very  varnish  of  the  furniture. 

In  1748  the  locusts  appeared  early  in  June 
in  Hungary,  on  the  Danube.  In  July  they 
were  terribly  destructive  throughout  Poland, 
and  at  the  middle  of  August  they  appeared  in 
clouds  in  London.  In  one  night  they  ate  the 


DESCRIBED  BT  THE  PROPHET.         H5 

grass  and  the  foliage  of  trees  about  Vienna, 
making  the  forests  bare  as  brooms.  In  Poland 
they  covered  the  country  for  miles,  and  were 
heaped  up  a  foot  thick;  when  they  alighted 
they  covered  the  ground  like  falling  snow.  At 
Warsaw  soldiers  were  sent  out  against  them 
with  cannon.  The  firing  of  great  guns  scat- 
tered them  and  drove  them  away.  In  Italy 
the  government  offered  rewards  for  them,  and 
12,000  sackfuls  were  gathered,  cast  into  pits, 
and  covered  with  quicklime. 

The  prophet  Joel  gives  a  description  of  their 
coming,  both  sublime  and  accurate :  "  A  day 
of  darkness  and  of  gloominess,  a  day  of  clouds 
and  of  thick  darkness,  as  the  moriiing  opened 
on  the  mountains;  a  great  people  and  a  strong. 
A  fire  devoureth  before  them,  and  behind  them 
a  flame  burneth.  The  land  is  as  a  garden  of 
Eden  before  them,  and  behind  them  a  desolate 
wilderness;  yea,  and  nothing  shall  escape  them. 
The  appearance  of  them  is  as  the  appearance 
of  horses,  and  as  horsemen  shall  they  run. 
Like  the  noise  of  chariots  on  the  tops  of  moun- 


146  ABOUT  LOCUSTS. 

tains  so  shall  they  leap;  like  the  noise  of  a 
flame  of  fire  that  devoureth^the  stubble,  as  a 
strong  people  set  in  battle  array.  They  shall 
run  like  mighty  men ;  they  shall  climb  the  wall 
like  men  of  war.  And  they  shall  march  every 
one  his  ways,  and  they  shall  not  break  his 
ranks;  neither  shall  one  thrust  another.  They 
shall  walk  every  one  in  his  path,  and  when 
they  fall  upon  the  sword  they  shall  not  be 
wounded.  They  shall  run  to  and  fro  in  the 
city.  They  shall  run  upon  the  wall.  They 
shall  climb  up  upon  the  houses.  They  shall 
enter  in  at  the  windows  like  a  thief.  The  earth 
shall  quake  before  them;  the  heaven  shall 
tremble ;  the  sun  and  moon  shall  be  dark,  and 
the  stars  shall  withdraw  their  shining. " 

The  prophet  also  mentions  the  usual  way  in 
which  the  locusts  are  destroyed:  "I  will  re- 
move far  off  from  you  the  northern  army,  and 
will  drive  him  into  a  land  barren  and  desolate, 
with  his  face  toward  the  east  sea,  and  his 
hinder  part  towards  the  utmost  sea,  and  his 
stink  shall  come  up  because  he  hath  done  great 


BEAUTY  FOLLOWS  DESTRUCTION.     H7 

things."  This  prophecy  may  refer  to  the  com- 
ing of  an  army  of  human  beings,  but  the 
description  literally  applies  to  the  march  of 
these  insects  as  described  by  historians.  Mr. 
Barron  says  that  in  1784,  and  in  1797,  two 
thousand  miles  in  South  Africa  were  covered 
with  Locusts,  which,  being  borne  into  the  sea  by 
a  northwest  wind,  formed,  for  fifty  miles  along 
the  shore,  a  bank  three  or  four  feet  high ;  and 
when  the  wind  was  in  the  opposite  point,  the 
horrible  odor  from  them  was  perceptible  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  away. 

Most  scourges  bring  in  their  train  benefits 
which  fully  repay,  if  they  do  not  many  fold  sur- 
pass, the  injury  inflicted.  The  prairies  rejoice 
in  a  greener  verdure  after  the  fire  has  con- 
sumed the  withered  grass.  So  a  land  which 
has  been  choked  with  rank  shrubs  and  with- 
ered bitter  grasses,  after  it  has  been  swept  by 
the  Locusts,  soon  wears  a  more  beautiful  dress, 
with  new  herbs,  superb  lilies,  fresh  annual 
grasses,  and  young  and  juicy  shrubs,  which 
afford  sweet  pasture  for  wild  cattle  and  game. 


148  ABOUT  LOCUSTS. 

Locusts  are  eaten  by  all  sorts  of  quadrupeds, 
by  many  birds,  large  and  small,  and  even  by 
man.  In  the  countries  which  they  ravage,  the 
people  have  nothing  else  left  to  eat,  and  learn- 
ing from  necessity,  they  continue  to  eat  Locusts 
from  choice.  The  Arabs  boil  them  and  dry 
them  in  the  sun.  Others  soak  them  in  oil. 
In  other  places  they  are  gathered  in  heaps 
and  salted.  The  wings  are  taken  off,  and 
the  bodies  eaten  as  meat,  or  they  are 
dried,  ground,  and  made  into  bread.  They 
have  even  been  exported,  and  armies  have  been 
relieved  by  them.  The  African  Bushman 
delights  in  a  swarm  of  Locusts,  as  his  choicest 
game,  furnishing  plenty  of  food  without  having 
to  work  for  it.  He  makes  large  fires,  and  the 
Locusts,  flying  through  the  flame,  have  their 
wings  scorched,  fall  into  the  fire,  are  roasted 
and  eaten.  Those  that  remain  are  ground 
between  stones,  and  kept  for  another  meal. 
Europeans  dislike  them,  but  the  fault  is  proba- 
bly in  the  cooking;  Dr.  Livingstone  thinks 
them  very  good  eating  when  well  prepared. 


THE  YOUNG  LOCUST.  149 

Hone}'  is  eaten  with  them,  when  it  can  be  had, 
as  it  assists  digestion. 

Does  this  remind  us  of  John  the  Baptist, 
whose  "meat  was  locusts  and  wild  honey." 
It  has  been  questioned  whether  the  quails 
which  the  strong  east  wind  blew  together  for 
the  Israelites  in  the  desert,  were  not  truly 
Locusts;  there  is  doubt  whether  the  word 
translated  quail  had  ever  that  meaning.  The 
Jews  ate  Locusts,  and  distinguished  between 
such  as  were  clean  or  unclean. 

The  young  Locusts  do  not  pass  through  the 
several  changes  which  most  insects  undergo. 
The  bee,  for  example,  is  first  a  grub,  then  a 
chrysalis,  then  a  perfect,  winged  bee.  The 
Locust  comes  from  the  egg  a  Locust,  but  wants 
wings,  which  come  gradually.  The  eggs  are 
laid  in  the  ground.  The  female  pierces  the 
ground  with  a  long,  two  bladed,  hollow  instru- 
ment. When  it  is  forced  into  the  soil,  the 
blades  open  a  little,  and  press  the  earth  aside, 
while  a  dozen  eggs  are  passed  into  the  cavity 
then  formed.  The  contrivance  is  not  unlike  a 


15°  ABOUT  LOCUSTS. 

corn-planter,  which  makes  a  hole,  drops  the 
corn,  and  covers  it,  all  at  once.  The  Locust 
goes  about  thus,  planting  her  eggs,  until  she  has 
deposited  several  hundred.  They  remain  during 
the  winter,  and  until  the  warm  sun  next  sum- 
mer hatches  them,  bringing  out  little  creatures 
as  large  as  gnats.  These  stay  a  while  in  the 
nest,  and  in  the  ground  near  by,  and  then  corne 
forth,  hopping  about  without  wings.  As  they 
grow  they  shed  their  skins,  each  time  appearing 
in  a  new,  larger,  and  more  perfect  dress.  By 
the  third  or  fourth  change,  wings  begin  to 
appear,  and  by  the  sixth  they  are  full  fledged. 
The  common  Grasshoppers  make  their  entire 
growth  in  one  season,  but  the  terrible  migra- 
tory Locust,  which  has  been  mentioned  above, 
is  said  to  live  in  the  ground  two  years,  and 
come  forth  in  the  third. 

It  is  often  a  matter  of  surprise  that  insects 
like  the  Locusts,  the  chinch-bugs,  and  others, 
should  not  be  observed  for  many  years,  and 
then  should  appear  in  swarms  of  such  immense 
numbers,  and  do  such  terrible  mischief.  Many 


THEIR  PR  OD  UC  TIVENESS.  1 5  T 

attempt  to  account  for  this  by  supposing  that 
the  ground  has  some  hidden  power  of  sponta- 
neous production,  which  is  thus  fitfully  exerted. 
It  is  probably  the  fact  that  these  insects  never 
entirely  disappear ;  that  no  season  passes  with- 
out producing  enough  to  keep  up  the  succes- 
sion. They  are  exceedingly  productive,  so  that 
a  few  may  be  the  parents  of  a  multitude.  But 
the  dangers  which  surround  the  eggs  and  the 
young,  eaten  as  they  are  by  every  kind  of  bird 
and  insect,  and  destroyed  by  myriads  by  unsea- 
sonable cold  and  rain,  sweep  them  away,  and 
leave  only  a  remnant  for  seed.  If  only  one  in 
a  thousand  escapes,  that  one  will  reproduce  a 
thousand.  Thus  if  two  favorable  seasons  fol- 
low in  succession,  the  scourge  appears,  and  the 
crops  suffer. 

In  the  south  of  Europe  rewards  are  regu- 
larly paid  for  the  collection  of  Locusts  and  of 
Locusts'  eggs.  The  city  of  Marseilles  expended 
20,000  francs  for  that  purpose,  in  one  year.  A 
franc  is  paid  for  about  two  pounds  and  a  quar- 
ter of  eggs.  In  Italy  large  quantities  have  been 


IS2  ABOUT  LOCUSTS. 

gathered  and  thrown  into  the  streams.  There 
is  a  slight  difference  in  the  piercer  of  the  Locust 
and  of  the  Grasshopper,  but  the  method  of 
placing  the  eggs  in  the  ground  is  essentially  the 
same. 

One  of  the  most  noted  among  the  Grasshop- 
pers is  the  Katy-did.  This  insect  is  of  a  pale 
green  color;  its  head  seems  to  have  been 
squarely  chopped  off;  its  wing-covers  are 
rounded,  and  enclose  the  wings  and  body  like 
the  sides  of  a  pea-pod.  It  lives  in  the  branches 
of  trees,  and  does  not  lay  its  eggs  in  the  ground, 
but  deposits  them  upon  the  twigs  and  branches 
in  regular  rows.  The  song  of  the  Katy-did  is 
one  of  the  cheerful  sounds  of  autumn,  save  that 
from  constant  repetition  it  becomes  tiresome. 
It  is  not  truly  a  song,  for  it  is  not  made  by  the 
mouth. 

"  The  musical  organs  of  the  male  consist  of  a 
pair  of  taborets.  They  are  formed  by  a  thin, 
transparent  membrane  stretched  in  a  strong, 
half-oval  frame  in  the  triangular  overlapping 
part  of  .each  wing  cover.  During  the  day  they 


THE  KATT-DID.  153 

are  silent,  but  at  night  the  males  begin  the  joy- 
ous call  by  which  they  enliven  their  silent 
mates.  This  proceeds  from  the  rubbing  of  the 
taboret  frames  against  each  other  when  the 
wing  covers  are  opened  and  shut ;  and  the 
notes  are  repeated  for  hours  together.  The 
sound  may  be  heard  in  the  stillness  of  the  night 
to  the  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  At  the 
approach  of  twilight  the  Katy-did  mounts  to 
the  upper  branches  of  the  tree  in  which  he 
lives,  and,  as  soon  as  the  evening  shades  pre- 
vail, begins  his  noisy  babble,  while  rival  notes 
issue  from  the  neighboring  trees,  and  the  groves 
resound  with  the  calls  '  Katy-did-she-did,  she- 
didn't,  she-did,'  the  livelong  night." 


154  THE  HUNTER  FA  T. 

He  put  his  acorn  helmet  on ; 

It  was  plumed  of  the  silk  of  the  thistle-down; 

The  corslet  plate  that  guarded  his  breast, 

Was  once  the  wild  bee's  golden  vest; 

His  cloak,  of  a  thousand  mingled  dyes, 

Was  formed  of  the  wings  of  butterflies ; 

His  shield  was  the  shell  of  a  lady-bug  queen, 

Studs  of  gold  on  a  ground  of  green ; 

And  the  quivering  lance  which  he  brandished  bright, 

Was  the  sting  of  a  wasp  he  had  slain  in  fight. 

Swift  he  bestrode  his  fire-fly  steed ; 

He  bared  his  blade  of  the  bent-grass  blue; 
He  drove  his  spurs  of  the  cockle  seed, 

And  away  like  a  glance  of  thought  he  flew. 

The  moth-fly,  as  he  shot  in  air, 

Crept  under  the  leaf,  and  hid  her  there ; 

The  katy-did  forgot  its  lay ; 

The  prowling  gnat  fled  fast  away ; 

The  fell  mosquito  checked  his  drone, 

And  folded  his  wings  till  the  fay  was  gone ; 

And  the  wily  beetle  dropped  his  head, 

And  fell  on  the  ground  as  if  he  were  dead. 

They  watched  till  they  saw  him  mount  the  roof 

That  canopies  the  world  around ; 
Then  glad  they  left  their  covert  lair, 
And  freaked  about  in  the  midnight  air. 

The  Culprit  Fay. 


TRANSFORMATIONS   OF   THE   MOSQUITO. 


ABOUT      MOSQUITOES, 


ARTICULATA  —  INSECTA. 

ORDER  —  Diptera.    Two-winged. 

FAMILY  —  Culicida.     Cuteo,  A  gnat. 


HE  Mosquito  is  a  nuisance.  He 
sings  and  then  he  bites ;  and  his 
singing  is  usually  notice  that  he 
intends  to  bite.  He  comes  in  the 
night,  when  the  faint  and  sultry 
air  persuades  the  sleeper  to  throw 
off  the  protecting  cover,  and  sleep 
flies  before  him.  If  one  seeks  a 
shelter  from  the  glaring  sun,  under  the  shade 
by  the  brook-side,  myriads  of  these  gauze- 
winged  musicians  warn  him  away  from  their 
realm.  The  wild  forest  is  full  of  them.  The 


IS  ABOUT  MOS^ UITOES. 

heavy  timber,  from  June  to  September,  is  utterly 
uninhabitable,  unless  constant  war  is  made 
against  the  Mosquitoes.  Every  bit  of  standing 
water,  and  every  purling  rill,  teems  with  them. 
The  trees  and  bushes  every  where  shelter  them. 
Shake  a  bough,  and  a  swarm  rises  from  it ; 
land  from  a  boat,  and  a  cloud  tender  a  too  cor- 
dial reception.  They  gather  like  hungry  poli- 
ticians about  the  dispenser  of  official  favors. 
r  Nothing  but  thick  leather  and  woolen  will  pro- 
tect your  ancles  or  your  wrists.  You  can  save 
your  face  in  only  one  way.  Wear  a  soft  hat  that 
you  can  sleep  in ;  get  a  yard  of  black  lace,  sew 
the  ends  together,  and  draw  round  the  crown  of 
your  hat  one  end  of  the  bag  which  you  make, 
while  you  gather  the  other  end  under  your  chin. 
The  brim  of  the  hat  will  keep  the  veil  from  the 
face,  and  the  disappointed  Mosquitoes  will  rave 
in  vain  against  the  outside.  In  a  few  moments 
one  becomes  so  accustomed  to  the  veil  that  it 
does  not  interfere  with  sight,  although  it  is  in  the 
way  in  eating  and  drinking.  It  is  no  exaggera- 
tion to  say,  that  in  the  dense  forest,  in  June, 


TOR  TURE  B  T  MOSQ  UITOES.  159 

the  Mosquitoes  have  gathered  upon  the  back  of 
a  man  sitting  down  to  rest,  so  thickly  as  to  hide 
the  color  of  his  coat,  whether  light  or  dark, 
with  the  brown  of  their  wings. 

The  Rev.  Walter  Colton  tells  how  the  miners 
in  California  made  culprits  disclose  the  truth 
by  means  of  Mosquitoes.  A  rogue  had  stolen 
a  bag  of  gold  and  hid  it.  Neither  persuasions 
or  threats  could  make  him  tell  where  it  was 
concealed.  He  was  sentenced  to  receive  a  hun- 
dred lashes,  but  was  told  that  he  would  be  let  off 
with  thirty,  if  he  would  tell  what  he  had  done 
with  the  gold.  He  refused.  The  thirty  lashes 
were  laid  on,  but  he  was  as  stubborn  as  a  mule. 
He  was  then  stripped,  and  tied  to  a  tree.  The 
Mosquitoes,  with  their  sharp  bills,  went  at  him, 
and  in  less  than  three  hours  he  was  covered 
with  blood.  Writhing  and  trembling  from 
head  to  foot,  he  exclaimed,  "  Untie  me,  untie 
me,  and  I  will  tell  where  it  is  !"  "  Tell  first," 
was  the  reply.  So  he  told  where  it  might  be 
found.  Then  some  of  the  party,  with  wisps, 
kept  off  the  hungry  Mosquitoes,  while  others 


i6o 


ABOUT  MOSQUITOES. 


went  where  the  culprit  directed,  and  found  the 
bag  of  gold.  He  was  then  untied,  washed  with 
cold  water,  and  helped  to  his  clothes,  while  he 
muttered,  as  if  talking  to  himself,  "  I  couldn't 
stand  that,  anyhow." 

There  is  no  doubt  that  a  man  would  perish 
in  a  short  time,  from  loss  of  blood,  and  from 
the  fever  caused  by  the  poison  of  their  bites, 
if  exposed,  as  this  man  was,  with  no  means  of 
defence. 

The  largest  kind  of  Mosquito  about  the  Mis- 
sissippi river  is  called  the  "  Gallinipper."  The 
boatmen  say  that  it  is  as  large  as  a  goose,  and 
that  it  carries  a  brickbat  under  its  wing,  on 
which  to  sharpen  its  bill. 

Cattle  are  not  troubled  by  Mosquitoes,  but 
horses  suffer  terribly.  The  lumbermen  drive 
them  away  from  their  camps  by  making  low 
fires  of  chips  and  damp  grass.  Jn  the  coolness 
of  evening,  the  smoke  from  these  "  smudge  " 
fires  hangs  heavily  over  the  ground,  and  affords 
considerable  protection,  which  even  animals 
seek. 


THE  LOGGING  CAMP.  l6l 

On  a  still  night  such  a  camp  is  very  pictur- 
esque. The  low  log  hut  by  the  river;  the  tall, 
sombre  pines,  towering  above  dense  masses  of 
maples,  and  ragged  outlines  of  oaks  ;  the  strag- 
gling fires,  that  thrust  out  tongues  of  fitful 
flame,  and  reek  with  thick  smoke,  which 
spreads  upon  the  ground,  or  lazily  rolls  over 
the  roof;  the  long,  level  lines  of  blue  haze 
which  the  smoke  finally  draws  against  the  foli- 
age of  the  trees;  the  solemn  stillness  resting 
over  all,  broken  only  by  the  hoot  of  the  owl, 
the  wail  of  the  whip-poor-will,  or  the  tinkle  of 
the  rippling  stream,  while  the  bright  eyed 
climbing  stars  replace  the  waning  twilight; 
compose  a  scene  too  lovely  to  be  spoiled  by 
millions  of  myriads  of  swarming,  howling,  rav- 
ing, hungry  Mosquitoes. 

The  Mosquito  is  an  insect  of  the  water. 
Early  on  a  summer  morning,  even  before  sun- 
rise, the  mother  may  be  found  laying  her  eggs. 
They  must  be  placed  where  there  is  warmth 
enough  to  hatch  them,  and  where  the  young 
creatures  which  pop  out  may  go  at  once  into 


1 62  ABOUT  MOSQUITOES. 

the  water.  So  the  careful  insect,  like  the 
mother  of  Moses,  puts  her  children  into  a  little 
ark,  which  she  leaves  on  the  surface  of  the  pool. 
The  ark  she  makes  of  the  eggs  themselves. 
She  rests  on  a  bit  of  grass,  or  a  leaf,  at  the  top 
of  the  water,  holding  to  it  by  the  first  and  sec- 
ond pair  of  legs.  The  third  pair  she  crosses 
behind  her  like  the  letter  X.  The  first  egg  is 
caught  and  held  between  the  legs.  Then 
another  and  another  are  fastened  to  the  first 
by  the  gum  which  covers  them,  until  fifteen  or 
twenty  have  been  set  up  side  by  side,  as  one 
might  set  up  a  number  of  ears  of  corn,  or  like 
the  seeds  in  the  head  of  a  sunflower. 

When  the  mass  becomes  too  heavy  for  her 
to  support,  she  lowers  it  upon  the  water,  but 
still  holds  it  by  putting  her  feet  on  either  side, 
until  two  hundred  and  fifty  or  three  hundred 
eggs  have  been  laid.  Those  at  the  sides  are 
higher  than  those  in  the  middle,  while  those  at 
the  ends  are  raised  somewhat  more.  Thus  the 
whole  mass  is  shaped  much  like  a  canoe. 
These  tiny  black  boats,  about  as  large  as  grains 


WHIG  GLERS.  1 63 

of  wheat,  may  be  found  floating  upon  the  top 
of  any  tub,  or  barrel  of  water,  which  has  stood 
for  some  days.  Nothing  can  harm  them,  if 
some  other  creature  does  not  eat  them  up. 
The  storm  may  dash  them  against  the  shore, 
but  they  are  too  light  to  break  ;  a  torrent  of 
water  may  be  poured  upon  them,  and  they 
come  out  of  the  bubbling  foam  as  buoyant  as 
air,  and  as  dry  as  a  duck ;  the  water  may  freeze 
solid,  but  their  life  is  not  destroyed. 

In  a  few  days  —  three  are  usually  enough,  if 
warm — the  eggs  hatch,  and  each  sends  a  wrig- 
gler down  into  the  water,  through  a  hole  in  the 
bottom.  The  little  fellow  swims  about,  and 
presently  hangs  himself  by  his  tail  to  the  sur- 
face. If  disturbed,  he  goes  down  out  of  the 
way,  but  soon  comes  back,  and  rests,  as  before, 
with  the  tip  of  his  tail  out  of  water.  He  does 
this,  just  as  other  swimmers  do,  because  he 
would  keep  his  nose  above  water.  The  odd 
thing  about  it  is,  that  his  nose,  or,  at  least,  the 
tube  which  he  breathes  through,  is  not  on  his 
face,  but  at  the  tip  of  his  tail.  It  ends  in  a  few 


164  ABOUT  MOSQUITOES. 

hairs,  which  spread  in.  a  star-form,  and  are 
oiled,  to  repel  the  water.  Thus  the  tail  is  both 
nose  to  breathe  through,  and  buoy  to  keep 
itself  at  the  top  of  the  water.  He  lives  upon 
the  impurities  in  the  water,  and  so  serves  a 
very  useful  purpose  in  the  world. 

By  and  by,  he  changes  into  a  pupa,  and  then 
he  turns  himself  over,  end  for  end.  He  did 
breathe  through  his  tail ;  now  he  breathes 
through  his  ears,  or  a  pair  of  tubes  which  look 
like  ears,  and  are  thrust  up,  just  a  little,  out  of 
the  water.  His  tail  is  now  like  the  tail  of  a 
fish,  and  by  it  he  can  move  himself  through  the 
water  as  he  pleases.  He  remains  thus  about 
fifteen  days,  and  then  takes  a  new  form, 
exchanging  his  home  in  the  water  for  a  life  in 
the  air. 

When  the  warm  sun  shines  on  the  water,  the 
change  comes.  The  pupa  rises  to  the  surface, 
and  thrusts  out  his  head  and  shoulders.  The 
cover  bursts,  and  the  plumed  head  appears,  fol- 
lowed by  the  shoulders,  and  the  filmy  wings. 
Now  is  the  time  of  danger.  If  an  unlucky  puff 


HOW  SHE  STINGS.  1 65 

of  air  sweep  the  water,  over  goes  our  sailor,  his 
wings  are  wet,  and  his  voyage  lost,  just  as  he  is 
ready  to  come  into  port.  'His  old  garment  lies 
upon  the  water.  It  is  his  life-boat.  His  body 
is  the  mast,  and  his  drying  wings  are  the  sails. 
Now  his  slender  legs  are  dry,  and  with  them  he 
feels  for  the  surface  of  the  pool.  He  lifts  him- 
self free  from  his  cast-off  coat,  rests  an  instant 
on  the  water,  and  then  leaps  into  the  air,  a  sing- 
ing, stinging  Mosquito. 

But  all  the  Mosquitoes  do  not  sting.  The 
males  wear  a  pair  of  plumes  upon  their  heads, 
and  spend  their  days  in  a  ceaseless  dance  in 
the  sunbeams.  Those  that  bite  are  the  females. 
One  gently  drops  on  your  neck  or  hand,  with 
footstep  so  light  that  you  feel  it  not ;  she  looks 
about  for  a  moment,  hesitating  as  to  where  she 
will  begin  to  bore.  Now  she  has  found  the 
place,  and  her  needle  tongue  goes  down  into 
the  skin.  Now  you  feel  the  prick,  and  now 
you  may  see  her  chest  heave  as  she  pumps  up 
the  red  fluid.  No  speculator,  boring  for  oil, 
ever  felt  happier  over  a  flowing  well,  than  our 


1 66  ABOUT  MOSQUITOES. 

borer  over  the  flowing  fountain  which  she  has 
tapped.  Now  her  abdomen  expands,  more  and 
more,  until  it  seems  that  she  will  burst.  At 
last  she  has  enough  —  too  much,  in  fact,  for 
her  greed  will  cost  her  life.  She  draws  up  the 
rod,  and  heavily  flies  away.  Her  light  wings 
can  scarcely  bear  the  increased  burden.  She 
will  die  of  surfeit. 


TO  A  MOSQUITO. 

Fair  insect !  that,  with  thread-like  legs  spread  out, 
And  blood-extracting  bill  and  filmy  wing, 

Dost  murmur,  as  thou  slowly  sail'st  about, 
In  pitiless  ears  full  many  a  plaintive  thing, 

And  tell  how  little  our  large  veins  should  bleed, 

Would  we  but  yield  them  to  thy  bitter  need. 

Unwillingly,  I  own,  and,  what  is  worse, 
Full  angrily  men  hearken  to  thy  plaint; 

Thou  gettest  many  a  brush  and  many  a  curse, 

For  saying  thou  art  gaunt,  and  starved,  and  faint : 

Even  the  old  beggar,  while  he  asks  for  food, 

Would  kill  thee,  helpless  stranger,  if  he  could. 


BRYANTS  MOSQUITO.  167 

Beneath  the  rushes  was  thy  cradle  swung, 

And  when,  at  length,  thy  gauzy  wings  grew  strong, 

Abroad  to  gentle  airs  their  folds  were  flung, 
Rose  in  the  sky  and  bore  thee  soft  along; 

The  south  wind  breathed  to  waft  thee  on  thy  way, 

And  danced  and  shone  beneath  the  billowy  bay. 

Calm  rose  the  city  spires,  and  thence 
Came  the  deep  murmur  of  its  throng  of  men, 

And  as  its  grateful  odors  met  thy  sense, 
They  seemed  the  perfume  of  thy  native  fen. 

Fair  lay  its  crowded  streets,  and  at  the  sight 
Thy  tiny  song  grew  shriller  with  delight 

At  length  thy  pinions  fluttered  in  Broadway — 
Ah,  there  were  fairy  steps,  and  white  necks  kissed 

By  wanton  airs,  and  eyes  whose  killing  ray 

Shone  through  the  snowy  veils,  like  stars  thro'  mist; 

And  fresh  as  morn,  on  many  a  cheek  and  chin, 

Bloom'd  the  bright  blood  thro'  the  transparent  skin.     . 

Sure  these  were  sights  to  touch  an  anchorite ! 

What!  do  I  hear  thy  slender  voice  complain? 
Thou  wailest,  when  I  talk  of  Beauty's  light, 

As  if  it  brought  the  memory  of  pain. 
Thou  art  a  wayward  being  —  well  —  come  near, 
And  pour  thy  tale  of  sorrow  in  mine  ear. 


l68  ABOUT  MOSQUITOES. 

What  says't  thou  —  slanderer!  rouge  makes  thee  sick? 

And  China  bloom,  at  best,  is  sorry  food  ? 
And  Rowland's  Kalydor,  if  laid  on  thick, 

Poisons  the  thirsty  wretch  who  bores  for  blood? 
Go!  'twas  a  just  reward  that  met  thy  crime  — 
But  shun  the  sacrilege  another  time. 

That  bloom  was  made  to  look  at,  not  to  touch ; 

To  worship,  not  approach,  that  radiant  white ; 
And  well  might  sudden  vengeance  light  on  such 

As  dared,  like  thee,  most  impiously,  to  bite. 
Thou  should'st  have  gazed  at  distance,  and  admired, 
Murmured  thy  adoration,  and  retired. 

Bryant. 


ABOUT    BEETLES. 


ARTICULATA. —  INSECTA. 

OKDEK  —  Coleoptera.     Sheath-winged. 


RIGHTLY  armor  of  proof  pro- 
tects the  Beetle.  First,  there 
is  the  strong  helmet,  with  shut 
visor,  and  crest  of  varied  de- 
vice. Then  comes  the  solid 
cuirass,  which  protects  the 
body,  and  below  that  the  full- 
orbed,  or  oval  shield,  which 
covers  the  abdomen,  and  the  upper  joints  of  the 
legs.  He  carries  neither  sword  nor  lance,  mace 
nor  battle  axe,  but  from  the  joints  of  his  visor 
project  two  ponderous  jaws,  which  grip  like  a 
vice.  He  is  horse  and  horseman  in  one.  His 


I72  ABOUT  BEETLES. 

thick  shield  parts  in  the  middle,  and  when  the 
two  leaves  swing  apart,  they  disclose  a  pair  of 
light,  gauzy  wings,  which,  with  a  great  deal  of 
fussy  buzzing,  lift  him  from  the  ground  and 
carry  him  away,  when  he, 

"  Drowsy  beetle,  wheels  his  droning  flight." 

The  plates  of  his  coat  of  mail  fit  each  other 
very  exactly.  The  helmet  makes  the  neatest 
joint  with  the  corselet,  and.  the  corselet  with 
the  shield.  The  wearer  can  move  every  part 
with  perfect  freedom,  and  yet  each  joint  is 
closed  against  prick  of  arrow  or  thrust  of  spear. 
Yet  the  Beetle  is  not  the  swift  horseman  of 
to-day,  but  resembles  more  the  heavy  man-at- 
arms  of  three  hundred  years  ago.  When  he 
was  pushed  off*  his  horse  in  sham  or  real  fight, 
and  lay  sprawling  on  his  back,  boxed  up  in  his 
heavy  plate  armor,  he  needed  a  stout  esquire  to 
set  him  on  his  pins  again.  Just  so,  if  a  bum- 
ming beetle  be  knocked  on  the  floor ;  it  takes 
him  a  long  while  to  overcome  his  astonishment, 


THEIR  ARMOR.  1 7  3 

and  make  ready  again  for  a  tilt  at  the  lamp,  or 
at  your  face. 

Our  knight  has  little  of  the  swift  dash  of  the 
wasp,  who  pricks  with  his  sharp  lance,  and 
then  rings  his  shrill  defiance.  He  has  none  of 
the  stealthy  adroitness  of  the  spider,  who  lassos 
his  victim,  like  a  Mexican,  and  then  stabs  him 
in  the  back,  as  coolly  as  an  Italian  bravo. 
Indeed,  he  does  very  little  at  offensive  warfare. 
If  you  are  in  his  way,  he  gives  you  a  sharp 
pinch,  or  whacks  you  in  the  face,  but  that  is  all. 
His  heavy  mail  serves  mostly  to  ward  off  the 
ass-aults  of  others. 

The  style  and  the  ornaments  of  his  armor 
are  very  various,  and  often  are  very  beau- 
tiful. Sometimes  the  whole  suit  is  plain 
black,  or  dark  brown.  Sometimes  it  gleams 
with  brilliant  hues  of  green,  crimson,  pur- 
ple, and  gold,  or  blazes  with  precious  gems, 
set  in  polished  metal.  In  any  case,  he  keeps 
his  armor  scrupulously  clean,  no  matter  how 
filthy  the  work  which  he  is  busied  about. 

The  order  contains  over  one  hundred  thon- 


174  ABOUT  BEETLES. 

sand  kinds,  divided  into  various  families.  "We 
must  be  content  with  noticing  a  few  of  the  most 
remarkable.  Some  of  them  do  great  injury  to 
vegetation,  either  while  grubs,  as  the  borers  in 
trees,  or  the  young  of  the  cock-chaffer,  which 
eat  the  roots  of  grass ;  or  while  fully  developed 
beetles,  as  the  curculio,  which  kills  the  plums, 
the  striped  cucumber-bug,  the  rose-chaffer,  and 
many  others.  Other  kinds  confer  decided  ben- 
efits. The  "Water  Rovers,  the  Skin  Beetles, 
Carrion  Beetles,  and  Dung  Beetles,  are  scaven- 
gers, disposing  of  the  filth  in  which  they  and 
their  young  live.  The  Tiger  Beetles,  Lady- 
birds, and  Diving  Beetles,  prey  upon  caterpil- 
lars, and  plant  lice.  The  Stag  Beetles,  Bark 
Beetles,  and  others,  help  destroy  old  trees 
which  are  going  to  decay.  The  Blister  Beetles, 
or  Cantharides,  are  pounded  up  by  the  drug- 
gists, and  the  dust  is  spread  upon  plasters,  to 
raise  blisters  when  applied  to  the  skin. 

The  first  on  our  list  is  the  Sexton,  or  Burying 
Beetle.  If  the  body  of  a  dead  bird,  or  mouse, 
or  any  piece  of  meat,  be  left  upon  a  spot  of  soft 


THE  BUR  TING-BEETLE.  1 75 

earth,  it  will  often  be  found,  on  the  next  morn- 
ing, half  sunk  in  the  soil.  Take  up  the  bird, 
and  you  will  find  under  it  one  or  two  beetles, 
sometimes  entirely  black,  sometimes  barred 
with  orange.  During  the  day  the  insects  will 
usually  be  quiet,  but  at  nightfall  they  will  begin 
work  again.  The  work  of  burying  is  done 
almost  entirely  by  the  male  Beetle,  the  female 
either  hiding  in  the  dead  body,  or  sitting  qui- 
etly on  it,  and  being  buried  with  it.  The  male 
begins  by  turning  a  furrow  all  round  the  bird, 
about  half  an  inch  away.  His  head  is  held 
sloping  outwards,  and  like  a  strong  plow,  turns 
the  earth  aside.  When  the  first  furrow  is 
made,  a  second  is  turned  within  it,  the  dirt 
being  thrown  into  the  first.  Then  a  third  is 
made,  and  this  is  quite  under  the  bird,  so  that 
the  Beetle  is  out  of  sight.  The  work  may  be 
traced  by  the  heaving  of  the  earth,  which  now 
makes  a  wall,  and  as  it  grows  higher,  the  bird 
sinks.  After  hard  work  for  about  three  hours, 
the  Beetle  comes  forth,  and  crawls  upon  the 
body,  to  see  how  he  succeeds.  He  rests  half 


176  ABOUT  BEETLES. 

an  hour,  goes  down  again,  dives  into  the  grave, 
and  pulls  the  bird  down  by  the  feathers.  He 
works  two  or  three  hours  more,  plowing  and 
pulling ;  then  conies  up,  takes  another  survey, 
and  drops  down,  as  if  suddenly  fallen  asleep. 
When  he  is  rested,  he  pulls  the  bird  about,  this 
way  and  that,  tramples  it  down,  and  settles  it 
to  his  mind.  Then  he  goes  behind  the  rampart 
of  earth,  and  plows  it  back  into  the  grave,  with 
great  skill  and  strength.  He  bends  his  head 
down  first,  and  then  turns  up  his  nose  with  a 
jerk  which  throws  the  earth  forward.  When 
the  grave  is  filled,  and  carefully  examined,  no 
feather  being  left  in  sight,  he  digs  a  hole  in  the 
loose  earth,  and  having  already  buried  the  bird 
and  the  female,  next  buries  himself.  The 
female  lays  her  eggs,  the  pair  take  a  full  meal 
of  the  carcass,  then  dig  their  way  out,  and  fly 
away. 

If  the  creature  is  no  bigger  than  a  mouse,  a 
single  day  will  be  long  enough  to  bury  it  in. 
One  buried  a  mole,  forty  times  as  large  as  itself, 
in  two  da}  s.  A  French  naturalist  placed  two 


THE  D  OR  BEE  TLE.  1 7  7 

pairs  of  these  Beetles  under  a  glass  case,  and 
furnished  them  with  dead  bodies.  In  fifty  days 
they  had  buried  four  frogs,  three  small  birds, 
two  fishes,  one  mole,  two  grasshoppers,  and 
three  bits  of  flesh.  All  this  work  is  done  to 
secure  a  nest  and  food  for  the  young,  and  to 
protect  it  from  other  creatures,  as  the  fox,  or 
the  raven,  which  might  devour  flesh  and  young 
Beetles  together. 

The  work  is  done  very  much  as  men  sink 
wells  in  sandy  ground.  They  sometimes  lay 
down  on  the  earth  a  ring  of  plank,  as  large  as 
the  well  is  to  be.  Then  they  build  a  circular 
wall  of  brick  and  mortar  upon  the  ring.  The 
sand  is  taken  out  from  under  the  plank,  and 
the  whole  wall  sinks  slowly  down.  So  the  well 
is  dug  as  deep  as  may  be  necessary,  while  the 
wall  is  built  up  at  the  top,  as  fast  as  it  settles 
into  the  ground. 

Another  burying  Beetle  is  the  Dor  Beetle, 
called,  in  this  country,  Tumble-bug.  This  is 
akin  to  the  sacred  beetle  of  ancient  Egypt,  or 
the  Scarabseus.  Its  image  was  engraved  on 


178  ABOUT  BEETLES. 

rings,  which  soldiers  wore  to  show  that  they 
were  warriors.  On  temples  or  columns  it  was 
a  symbol  of  Divine  wisdom,  which  regulates  the 
universe,  teaches  mankind,  and  is  self-existent. 
In  its  singular  habit  of  rolling  about  pellets  of 
dung  the  Egyptian  astrologers  thought  it  rep- 
resented the  revolutions  of  the  sun,  moon,  and 
stars. 

When  this  insect  finds  a  patch  of  cow-dung, 
she  sets  herself  at  work.  First  she  digs  a  deep 
hole,  smooth  and  round.  Then  she  cuts  off  a  por- 
tion of  the  patch,  lays  an  egg  in  it,  and  rolls  it 
about  into  a  rude  ball.  Now  she  rests  her  fore 
feet  upon  the  ground,  and  with  her  hind  feet 
rolls  the  ball  hither  and  thither,  until  the  outside 
has  gathered  in  the  dust  and  sand,  a  thin,  hard 
crust  or  shell.  Then,  always  pushing  back- 
wards, she  rolls  it  to  the  hole,  tumbles  it  in, 
and  covers  it  with  earth.  The  egg  is  soon 
hatched,  the  grub  feeds  on  the  substance  which 
surrounds  it,  changes  to  a  chrysalis,  and  remains 
in  the  shell,  which  still  serves  to  protect  it, 
until  it  is  ready  to  come  forth,  a  perfect  Beetle, 


THE  GOLIATH.  179 

qualified  to  roll  pills  on  its  own  account.  The 
smooth  surface  of  this  beetle,  which  gleams  like 
polished  steel,  retains  no  trace  of  its  work. 
Not  a  spot  or  a  stain  defiles  it,  nor  does  any 
odor  betray  its  occupation. 

Some  of  these  rolled  cocoons  are  very  large. 
A  specimen  in  the  British  Museum,  made  by 
the  Goliath,  is  as  large  as  a  swan's  egg.  The 
walls  are  quite  thin,  and  are  strengthened  by  a 
belt  about  the  middle.  The  insect  which  grew 
in  it  is  still  inside,  and  may  be  seen  through  an 
opening  at  one  end.  Its  plates  of  mail  are  rich, 
velvety  chocolate,  edged  with  broad  bands  of 
white.  This  species,  the  largest  now  known, 
has  a  body  about  four  inches  long  and  two 
inches  broad ;  when  walking,  it  covers  a  space 
of  nearly  six  inches. 

An  interesting  family  of  Beetles  includes  the 
Dors,  May-bugs,  Cock-chafers,  and  Rose-bugs. 
They  are  very  common  and  well  known,  both 
as  Beetles  and  as  grubs.  The. perfect  insect 
does  not  live  more  than  a  week,  and  the  species 
is  not  seen  more  than  four  or  six  weeks  in  a 


ABOUT  BEETLES. 

season.  The  females  burrow  in  the  ground 
about  six  inches,  to  lay  their  eggs  —  some  say, 
as  many  as  two  hundred.  In  about  fourteen 
days  the  eggs  are  hatched,  and  produce  white 
grubs,  each  having  six  legs  near  the  head,  and 
a  pair  of  strong  jaws.  Their  skins  are  white, 
and  partly  transparent.  When  thrown  out  by 
the  plow  or  spade,  they  are  found  coiled  like  a 
ring,  or  a  horse-shoe.  A  full  grown  grub  is 
nearly  as  large  as  one's  little  finger  —  a  plump, 
fat  morsel,  very  eagerly  swallowed  by  crows  and 
chickens. 

They  do  much  mischief,  eating  the  tender 
roots  of  grass,  grain,  herbs,  and  trees.  When 
very  numerous,  they  have  so  cut  oft1  the  roots 
of  grass,  that  the  turf  could  be  rolled  up  in 
many  places  like  a  carpet.  As  winter  comes, 
they  descend  below  the  reach  of  frost,  and  lie 
torpid  until  spring ;  then  they  change  their 
skins,  and  go  back  to  the  surface.  At  the  end 
of  the  third  summer  —  some  say  the  fifth  — 
they  go  down  about  two  feet,  and  each  one,  by 
moving  from  side  to  side,  forms  a  hollow  oval 


THE  MAT-BUG.  l8l 

space,  about  the  size  of  a  pigeon's  egg.  Here 
it  casts  its  skin,  and  becomes  a  pupa,  whose 
clear  salmon-colored  skin  shows  under  it  the 
head,  eyes,  jaws,  wings,  legs  —  all  the  parts  of 
the  perfect  beetle.  In  February  this  skin 
bursts,  and  the-  insect  is  ready  to  dig  its  way 
out  when  the  first  warm  week  of  May  has 
clothed  the  trees  with  leaves.  In  digging  out 
decayed  stumps  of  trees,  fine  opportunities  may 
be  had  for  observing  these  grubs  in  every  stage 
of  their  lives. 

The  winged  beetles  do  as  much  harm  by  eat- 
ing the  leaves  of  trees,  as  the  grubs  did  by 
devouring  the  roots.  During  the  day  they 
remain  on  the  branches,  hidden  under  the 
leaves.  At  nightfall  they  begin  to  buzz  about, 
humming  among  the  trees  until  midnight. 
They  often  come  into  houses,  attracted,  and 
blinded,  by  the  light.  They  dart  about  with 
very  uncertain  aim,  putting  out  candles,  whack- 
ing unlucky  people  in  the  face,  and  banging 
against  trees  and  walls  so  hard  as  to  throw  them- 
selves stunned  upon  the  ground.  Hence  come 


182 


ABOUT  BEETLES. 


the  sayings  "blind  as  a  beetle,"  and  " beetle- 
headed."  When  very  plenty,  the  attempt  has 
been  made  to  check  their  ravages  by  shaking 
them  from  the  trees  upon  cloths  spread  under- 
neath. They  are  then  thrown  into  boiling 
water,  and  fed  to  fowls  or  hogs.  In  this  way 
they  have  been  gathered  by  pailfuls,  and  in  a 
few  days  no  more  could  be  found.  Many  years 
ago  these  beetles  were  so  plenty  in  Norwich, 
England,  that  a  farmer  and  his  men  claimed 
to  have  gathered  eighty  bushels  of  them  ;  and 
they  and  their  grubs  had  done  so  much  harm, 
that  the  city  gave  the  farmer  twenty-five  pounds 
for  relief. 

The  Rose-chafer,  like  the  May-bug,  does 
much  harm  in  gardens  and  nurseries.  It  is 
about  one  third  of  an  inch  long,  covered  with 
yellowish  down.  The  slender,  red  legs  end  in 
long  feet.  They  come  forth  about  the  second 
week  in  June,  and  remain  about  a  month.  The 
eggs  are  hatched  in  the  ground,  and  the  grubs 
feed  upon  roots  until  autumn,  when  they 
descend  below  the  frost.  In  the  spring  they 


STAG-BEETLES.  183 

come  up  again.  In  May  they  pass  the  first 
change,  and  in  June  come  forth  fledged  Rose- 
bugs.  They  can  be  destroyed  only  by  crush- 
ing, burning,  or  throwing  into  scalding  water. 
They  eat  the  leaves  not  only  of  rose  bushes,  but 
also  of  fruit  trees. 

Certain  Beetles  called  Stag  Beetles,  and 
Horn-bugs,  from  their  jaws,  which  resemble 
the  horns  of  oxen  or  deer,  belong  to  the  family 
Lucanidce.  They  fly  by  night,  and  often  the 
lights  attract  them  into  houses,  to  the  great 
alarm  of  the  people  within;  but  they  are  quite 
harmless,  and  will  not  even  pinch,  unless  pro- 
voked. Their  grubs  resemble  those  of  the 
Scarabs,  and  live  in  the  trunks  and  roots  of 
trees.  When  full  grown,  they  make  cocoons 
of  bits  of  wood  and  bark,  glued  together,  and 
wait  the  changes  which  make  Horn-bugs  of 
them. 

The  grubs  of  the  Buprestidce  are  the  borers 
so  destructive  to  fruit  and  forest  trees.  They 
are  long,  narrow,  and  flat,  with  large,  hard 
heads  and  jaws.  They  have  no  legs,  but 


1  §4  ABOUT  BEETLES. 

move  by  twisting  from  side  to  side,  and  by 
pulling  with  their  jaws.  They  may  be 
destroyed  by  thrusting  a  wire  after  them,  into 
the  hole  which  they  are  making  —  if  it  can  be 
found.  The  crushed  grub  will  come  out  on  the 
point  of  the  wire,  to  prove  the  success  of  the 
experiment  Possibly,  however,  woodpeckers 
would  be  more  expert  at  this  kind  of  thing  than 
men. 

Another  family  that  are  great  pests  are  the 
Cwrculios.  These  spoil  the  fruit,  attacking 
plums,  apricots,  and  cherries,  and  not  sparing 
apples,  pears,  and  peaches.  As  soon  as  the 
fruit  is  set  in  the  spring,  these  little  insects 
begin  their  work,  and  they  keep  at  work,  until 
July  or  August.  The  Beetle  cuts  with  its  snout 
a  little  curve  in  the  skin  of  the  plum,  then 
turns  round  and  lays  an  egg  in  the  wound.  A 
maggot  hatches,  which  eats  its  way  into  the 
fruit,  even  to  the  stone;  this  causes  the  plum 
to  become  diseased,  and  to  fall  off  before  it  is 
ripe.  When  the  plum  is  partly  grown,  the 
curved  scar  may  be  easily  found.  All  such, 


THE  T  A  TTA  CK  PINES.  1 85 

with  all  that  fall  upon  the  ground,  should  be 
gathered  and  destroyed,  to  prevent  the  maggots 
from  going  into  the  ground  to  pass  the  changes, 
and  coming  out  afterwards  to  keep  up  the 
evil. 

Others  of  this  family  attack  the  pines.  Wil- 
son says  :  "  Would  it  be  believed  that  the  larvse 
of  a  fly  no  bigger  than  a  grain  of  rice,  should 
silently,  and  in  one  season,  destroy  some  thou- 
sands of  acres  of  pine  trees,  many  of  them  two 
and  three  feet  in  diameter,  and  a  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  high !  In  some  places  the  whole 
woods,  as  far  as  you  can  see  around  you,  are 
dead,  stripped  of  their  bark,  their  wintry  arms 
and  bare  trunks  bleaching  in  the  sun,  and  tum- 
bling in  ruins  before  every  blast."  Besides 
boring  into  the  trunks,  these  insects  often 
destroy  the  top  shoot  of  the  tree,  on  which 
its  straight  and  lofty  growth  depends.  Mr. 
Wilson  suggests  that  until  farmers  can  devise 
some  better  plan  of  killing  these  pests,  they 
had  better  thank  and  protect  the  woodpecker. 

Another  rascal  of  this   tribe   is  the  wheat- 


1 86 


ABOUT  BEETLES. 


weevil.  Several  insects  are  known  by  this 
name,  but  the  one  meant  is  a  slender  Beetle, 
about  one  eighth  of  an  inch  long,  and  of  a 
pitchy-red  color.  It  lays  eggs  upon  the  har- 
vested wheat,  and  the  grubs  burrow  into  the 
grain,  each  one  taking  possession  of  a  single 
kernel.  The  worm  eats  the  substance,  but 
leaves  the  shell,  so  that  the  only  evidence  of 
harm  is  the  lightness  of  the  grain.  They  may 
be  destroyed  by  drying  the  wheat  in  kilns. 

After  the  peas  have  blossomed,  and  while 
they  are  just  beginning  to  swell  in  the  tender 
pods,  the  Pea-beetles  gather  by  night,  or  in 
cloudy  weather,  and  lay  their  tiny  eggs  in 
minute  holes  which  they  pierce  in  the  surface 
of  the  pods.  The  maggots,  as  soon  as  hatched, 
bury  themselves  in  the  peas,  and  the  small 
holes  are  soon  closed.  Often  every  pea  in  a 
pod  contains  a  grub.  They  remain  in  the  peas 
after  they  ripen,  and  come  out  in  the  spring, 
perfect  bugs,  ready  to  carry  on  the  work. 
Those  who  plant  "  buggy "  peas  will  find  the 
bugs  are  quite  as  sure  to  come  up,  and  bear 


THE  YELLOW  STRIPED  BUG.  1 87 

fruit,  as  the  peas.  The  crow-blackbird  is  fond 
of  the  bugs,  and  the  Baltimore  oriole,  or  hang- 
bird,  splits  open  the  pods  to  get  the  grubs  in 
the  green  peas.  .Don't  disturb  him,  for  be  sure 
if  he  wants  the  peas,  you  don't. 

Another  nuisance  in  the  garden  is  the  yellow 
striped  bug,  which  destroys  the  young  cucum- 
ber and  melon  plants.  It  comes  as  soon  as  the 
young  vines  come,  and  it  stays  all  summer. 
Great  numbers  visit  the  flowers  of  the  squashes 
and  pumpkins  for  the  pollen.  The  eggs  are 
laid,  and  the  grubs  grow,  in  the  ground.  Those 
bugs  which  have  their  heads  pinched  off  will 
be  sure  to  do  no  further  harm.  Various  devi- 
ces have  been  employed  against  them,  such  as 
sifting  soot,  snuff,  sulphur,  ashes,  or  plaster  of 
Paris,  on  the  vines;  sprinkling  them  with 
steeping  of  tobacco,  red  pepper,  walnut  leaves, 
or  hops;  burning,  fires  of  pine  knots  or  bits  of 
tar  barrels  at  night,  but  none  are  sure.  The 
best  preservative  is  a  frame  of  board,  covered 
with  millinet,  to  place  over  each  hill  of  vines. 
If  the  plants  can  be  protected  for  a  little  time, 


i88 


ABOUT  BEETLES. 


they  will  grow  fast  enough  to  escape  further 
harm. 

But  my  readers  will  begin  to  believe  that  all 
the  Beetles  are  nuisances,  and  will  be  led  to 
make  war  upon  every  insect  which  wears  a 
hard  shell.  Let  us  find  some  for  which  some- 
thing may  be  said  on  the  credit  side  of  the 
account. 

.While  writing  about  ants,  we  mentioned 
those  destructive  little  insects,  which  the  ants 
use  like  herds  of  cattle,  the  plant-lice,  or  Aphi- 
des. The  ants  only  milk  their  cows,  but  the 
grubs  of  a  Beetle  eat  them  up.  These  grubs 
become  the  pretty  insects  which  people  com- 
monly call  Lady-birds;  naturalists  call  them 
Cbccinellidce.  They  have  the  size  and  shape  of 
half  a  pea.  Some  are  black,  spotted  with  red ; 
others,  red  with  black,  yellow  with  black,  or 
yellow  with  white  spots.  The  eggs  are  laid 
among  the  lice,  and  the  grubs  at  once  go  to 
work  catching  and  eating  prey  as  large  as  them- 
selves, without  ever  seeming  to  be  satisfied. 

This  insect  has  always  been  a  favorite.     The 


LAD  r  BIRDS.  1 89 

German  children  think  it  brings  fair  weather, 
and  the  English  boys  and  girls  are  afraid  to 
hurt  it,  lest  it  should  bring  rain.  The  Norwe- 
gians call  it  Marspaert,  and  count  the  spots  to 
see  if  there  will  be  a  good  harvest.  If  there  be 
fewer  than  seven  spots,  they  say  bread  will  be 
plenty  and  cheap.  The  children  sing: 

Marspaert,  fleeg  in  Himmel ! 
Bring  my'n  Sack  voll  Kringeln ;  my  een,  dy  een, 
Alle  liitten  Engeln  een. 

Marspaert,  fly  to  heaven  ! 

Bring  me  a  sackful  of  biscuits ;  one  for  me,  one  for  thee, 
For  all  little  angels  one. 

The   Scotch   children  call   this   insect  Lady 
Lanners,  or  Landers.     They  say : 

Lady,  Lady  Lanners, 

Lady,  Lady  Lanners, 

Tak'  up  your  clowk  about  your  head, 

And  flee  away  to  Planners. 

Flee  ower  firth,  and  flee  ower  fell, 

Flee  ower  pule  and  rinnan  well, 

Flee  ower  muir,  and  flee  o'wer  mead, 


ABOUT  BEETLES. 

Flee  ower  livan,  flee  ower  dead, 
Flee  ower  corn,  and  flee  ower  lea, 
Flee  ower  river,  flee  ower  sea, 
Flee  ye  east,  or  flee  ye  west, 
Flee  till  him  that  lo'es  me  best. 


There  are  many  other  little  rhymes  in  various 
languages,  which  show  how  children  every 
where  love  this  insect.  Perhaps  they  do  not 
know  that  it  is  useful  as  well  as  pretty. 

The  family  of  Cicmdelidce  are  called  Tiger 
Beetles,  or  Sparklers.  They  get  the  first  name 
from  the  fierce  way  in  which  they  seize  and 
devour  other  insects,  and  the  last  from  their 
brilliant  colors.  The  Tiger  Beetle  is  among 
insects  what  the  kite  is  among  birds,  or  the 
shark  among  fishes.  He  runs  with  great  speed  ; 
he  is  armed  with  jaws  like  sickles,  crossing 
each  other;  his  eyes  project  from  each  side  of 
his  head,  that  he  may  see  every  way  ;  his  wings 
help  him  to  fly  as  swiftly  as  a  wasp.  His  suit 
of  mail,  of  burnished  steel  embossed  with  gold, 
is  more  beautiful  than  any  thing  ever  wrought 
by  mortal  armorer.  If  placed  under  the  miaro- 


THE  WATER  BEETLE. 


scope  in  a  strong  light,  his  whole  surface  seems 
ablaze  with  precious  metals  and  dazzling  gems. 
The  larvae  make  their  homes  in  the  ground  in 
tunnels  about  a  foot  deep.  Here  one  of  them 
lies  in  ambush  just  at  the  top  of  the  ground, 
the  head  hooked  to  the  edge  of  the  hole. 
When  an  insect  passes,  the  jaws  grasp  it,  and 
drag  it  to  the  bottom  of  the  den,  to  be  eaten. 

Another  family  of  carnivorous  Beetles  lives 
in  the  water.  Their  breathing  tubes  open 
under  the  wing-cases.  When  they  dive,  they 
carry  down  under  the  wings  a  supply  of  air, 
and  as  this  becomes  exhausted,  they  rise,  lift 
the  wings  above  the  surface,  and  so  take  a  fresh 
supply.  The  larva  of  the  Water  Beetle  is  as 
active  and  as  fierce  as  that  of  the  Tiger  Beetle, 
and  the  full  grown  insect  does  not  outgrow  his 
youthful  tastes.  If  several  be  put  in  a  vessel 
together,  they  will  surely  eat  each  other.  A 
gentleman  placed  a  pair  in  his  aquarium  in 
order  to  observe  their  habits.  He  succeeded  in 
observing,  on  the  next  morning,  that  the  male 


I92  ABOUT  BEETLES. 

had  been  killed  and  partly  eaten  by  his  disconso- 
late widow. 

The  whirligigs,  that  shoot  from  side  to  side 
on  the  top  of  still  water,  belong  to  this  family. 

One  of  the  most  noted  Beetles  is  the  Cucuyo, 
or  Fire-fly  of.  Mexico  and  Brazil.  It  wears  on 
each  side  of  the  chest  two  light  patches,  which 
by  day  are  pale  yellow,  but  by  night  glow  with 
a  very  intense  light.  When  it  spreads  its  wings, 
its  whole  body  seems  filled  with  the  most  brilliant 
flame.  It  flies  by  night,  and  the  forests,  filled 
with  these  insects,  crossing  and  recrossing  in 
every  direction,  glowing  and  vanishing  as  if 
suddenly  lighted  and  as  suddenly  extinguished, 
present  a  scene  too  beautiful  to  be  described. 

The  Indians  catch  these  beetles  by  balancing 
hot  coals  in  the  air  at  the  end  of  a  stick,  to 
attract  them,  which  proves  that  the  light  which 
their  bodies  diffuse  is  to  attract.  Once  in  the 
hands  of  the  women,  the  Cucuyos  are  shut  up 
in  little  cages  of  very  fine  wire,  and  fed  on  frag- 
ments of  sugar-cane.  When  the  Mexican  ladies 
wish  to  adorn  themselves  with  these  living  dia- 


THE  cucuros.  193 

monds,  they  place  them  in  little  bags  of  light 
tulle,  which  they  arrange  with  taste  on  their 
skirts.  There  is  another  way  of  mounting  the 
Cucuyos.  They  pass  a  pin,  without  hurting 
them,  under  the  thorax,  and  stick  this  pin  in 
their  hair.  The  refinement  of  elegance  consists 
in  combining  with  the  Cucuyos,  humming-birds 
and  real  diamonds,  which  produce  a  dazzling 
head-dress.  Sometimes,  imprisoning  these  ani- 
mated flames  in  gauze,  the  graceful  Mexican 
women  twist  them  into  ardent  necklaces,  or  else 
roll  them  round  their  waists,  like  a  fiery  girdle. 
They  go  to  the  ball  under  a  diadem  of  living 
topazes,  of  animated  emeralds,  and  this  diadem 
blazes  or  pales  according  as  the  insect  is  fresh 
or  fatigued.  When  they  return  home,  after  the 
soiree,  they  make  them  take  a  bath,  which 
refreshes  them,  and  put  them  back  again  into 
the  cage,  which  sheds  during  the  whole  night 
a  soft  light  in  the  chamber.  In  the  full  glow 
of  one  of  these  Fire-flies,  it  is  easy  to  read 
a  letter  or  a  book.  The  little  Flies  which  dart 


1 94  ABOUT  BEE TLES. 

through  our  meadows  in  moist  summer  even- 
ings, are  akin,  though  far  less  brilliant. 

The  last  family  we  will  mention,  are  the  Can- 
tharides,  or  Blister-flies.  They  secrete  a  sub- 
stance which,  when  procured  by  itself,  looks 
like  fine  snow-flakes;  when  it  is  left  upon  the 
skin  it  causes  great  irritation,  and  soon  pro- 
duces blisters.  The  Spanish  Fly  is  nearly  an 
inch  long ;  its  color  is  a  satin  green,  glossed 
with  gold.  It  feeds  upon  the  ash  and  lilac,  and 
is  found  also  on  the  poplar,  the  rose,  and  the 
honeysuckle.  Large  quantities  are  taken,  killed 
by  fumes  of  vinegar,  and  exported  for  druggists' 
use.  Several  kinds  of  Blister-flies  live  among 
us.  The  Potato-fly,  which  consumes  the  vines 
at  midsummer,  is  of  this  family.  Another 
often  strips  the  leaves  from  the  clematis.  These 
flies  may  be  caught  by  shaking  them  from  the 
vines  into  water,  which  prevents  their  flying, 
and  when  dry  they  may  be  used  by  the  apothe- 
caries. 


AMPHRISIUS    BUTTERFLY,    CATERPILLAR, 
AND   CHRYSALIS. 


ABOUT    BUTTERFLIES, 


ARTICULATA  —  INSECTA. 

ORDER  —  Lepidoptera.    Scale-winged. 


JGH  !  See  that  horrid,  ugly 
worm !"  Who  has  not  heard 
such  an  outcry  ?  Is  there  any 
good  reason  for  the  feeling  which 
it  indicates  ?  We  believe  that 
the  repugnance  which  very  many 
really  feel  towards  creatures  of 
this  kind  is  not,  as  they  think, 
natural,  or  inborn,  but  is  the  result  of  early 
training.  When  the  young  mother  sees  her 
toddling  baby  busily  watching  a  caterpillar, 
she  bids  him,  with  earnest  words,  with  looks 
and  acoents  of  disgust,  avoid  the  "  horrid,  nasty 


198  ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 

thing;"  his  growing  curiosity  is  checked,  and 
darling  Willie  Winkie  comes  to  believe  that  a 
worm  or  a  spider  is  the  vilest  thing  he  can 
know,  as  confidently  as  he  believes  he  loves  his 
mother  or  his  sister.  Whoever  has  overcome 
the  feeling,  thus  artificially  acquired,  long 
enough  to  begin  the  study  of  the  forms,  the 
nature,  and  the  wonderful  transformations  of 
caterpillars  of  every  kind,  has  learned  that  in 
this,  as  in  all  other  departments  of  nature,  the 
infinite  resources  of  the  creative  power  of  God 
are  wonderfully  displayed. 

Considering  the  entire  round  of  the  creature's 
life,  the  whole  world  of  birds,  insects,  and  flow- 
ers presents  nothing  more  interesting  or  lovely. 
If  nature's  course  is  not  disturbed,  the  worm 
will  fly  on  wings  of  beautiful  form,  exquisite 
coloring,  and  most  delicate  plumage ;  the  moth 
or  the  butterfly  assuredly  was,  at  some  day  not 
long  since,  a  crawling  worm.  But  we  go  yet 
farther,  and  confidently  assert,  that  at  no  stage 
of  its  varied  life  does  the  insect  show  to  the 
student  BO  much  that  has  interest  or  value,  or 


CATTERPILLARS  DO  HARM.  1 99 

to  the  general  observer  much  more  of  absolute 
beauty  of  color,  symmetry,  and  adaptation,  than 
when  it  is  so  often  abhorred  as  a  "  horrid,  ugly 
worm." 

We  do  not  deny  that  caterpillars  of  all  kinds 
do  much  mischief.  They  eat,  eat  voraciously, 
and  have  the  instinct  to  select  the  choicest 
parts  of  that  on  which  they  thrive.  Most  sub- 
sist on  vegetable  food,  and  chiefly  on  leaves; 
yet  some  devour  the  solid  wood,  some  live  in 
the  pith,  and  some  eat  only  grains  and 'seeds. 
Some  kinds  attack  woolens  and  furs;  even 
leather,  meat,  wax,  flour,  and  lard,  nourish  par- 
ticular kinds  of  caterpillars.  There  is,  then,  no 
reason  why  they  may  not  be  destroyed,  so  that 
their  numbers  may  be  kept  within  reasonable 
limits.  But  we  should  not  assert  that  the  poor 
creatures  are  ugly,  and  then  kill  them  because 
we  have  given  them  a  bad  name. 

Let  us  see  what  we  can  learn  by  studying  the 
lives  of  a  few;  we  could  wish  that  every  reader, 
young  or  old,  could  have  the  specimens  under 


2OO  ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 

his  own  eyes,  sure  as  we  are  that  he  would  find 
more  of  interest  in  them  than  we  describe. 

In  the  month  of  June,  when  the  feathery  car- 
rot leaves  are  growing  well,  we  may  find  feed- 
ing on  them  a  small  worm,  nearly  black,  which 
has  perhaps  grown  to  half  an  inch  before  we 
discover  him ;  he  may  be  no  more  than  a  tenth 
of  an  inch  long.  If  none  are  seen  on  the  car- 
rots, we  may  search  the  parsnips,  the  leaves  of 
the  celery,  parsley,  or  carraway,  for  the  worm 
thrives  on  either.  He  is  about  as  large  as  an 
oat-straw,  and  a  little  thickest  just  behind  his 
head.  He  wears  a  clean,  tight-fitting  coat  of 
black  velvet,  with  a  broad  white  band  across 
the  middle  of  his  back,  and  another  over  his 
tail ;  the  velvet  seems  to  be  laid  over  him  in 
folds,  and  to  be  studded  with  small  black 
points.  If  touched,  he  throws  his  head  back 
quickly,  as  if  annoyed  at  the  impertinence. 
Tickle  him  with  a  straw,  and  he  pushes  an 
orange-yellow  horn  out  from  the  top  of  his 
head,  toward  the  side  which  was  touched ; 
tickle  the  other  side,  another  appears.  Both 


CHANGING  THE  SKIN.  2OI 

issue  from  the  same  opening,  and  the  two 
branch  like  the  two  parts  of  a  V.  They  are 
scent  organs.  Immediately  a  smell  is  diffused, 
at  first  not  unfragrant  —  like  some  kind  of  over 
ripe  fruit  —  but  soon  sickening;  by  this  odor 
he  probably  protects  himself  from  the  ichneu- 
mon-flies, which  would  else  trouble  him ;  and 
by  it,  also,  you  may  know  that  your  specimen 
is  that  which  we  describe. 

You  may  gather  a  few  leaves  of  the  carrot, 
with  the  worm,  and  put  them  in  any  safe,  airy 
place  where  you  can  watch  him  day  by  day ; 
a  supply  of  fresh  food  will  keep  him  from 
going  away  for  the  present;  or  you  may 
observe  him  on  the  plant  where  you  found 
him. 

In  a  few  days  he  will  quite  likely  cease  to 
eat.  If  it  were  a  canary,  or  a  squirrel,  which 
does  not  dispose  of  his  rations,  you  might  guess 
that  your  pet  is  sick,  and  so  be  anxious  about 
him,  but  you  need  take  little  thought  for  the 
worm.  He  becomes  restless.  He  twists  quickly 
from  side  to  side.  Presently  his  skin  bursts 


202  ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 

just  above  or  behind  his  head,  and  he  actually 
begins  to  creep  out  of  it.  There,  it  is  done. 
Your  worm  is  yonder,  in  a  new  velvet  jacket, 
several  sizes  larger,  quite  differently  and  more 
handsomely  marked.  It  is  arranged  in  cross- 
way  folds,  as  before.  On  each  fold  the  sober 
black  is  enlivened  by  several  bright  orange 
spots;  on  the  middle  of  the  back,  where  the 
white  fold  lay,  is  a  small  white  spot,  surrounded 
by  six  others,  while  three  more  are  arranged  a 
little  lower  on  either  side.  The  old  garment, 
a  shriveled,  useless  thing,  lies  there,  where  he 
crept  out  of  it,  after  having  fastened  its  hinder 
hooks  to  the  leaf  on  which  he  rested. 

ISTow  he  takes  his  food  with  renewed  relish. 
He  moves  more  freely,  and  seems  much  more 
at  ease  in  his  new  and  enlarged  garment.  For 
several  weeks"  this  process  goes  on.  He  eats, 
grows,  outgrows  his  old  clothes,  and  creeps  out 
of  them  in  a  new  and  larger  suit, —  mamma, 
did  you  never  wish  Bobby  could  do  so  too, 
instead  of  wearing  his  trousers  out  at  the  knees, 
and  kicking  his  toes  through  the  copper  ?  — 


STRUCTURE.  203 

until  after  four  or  five  weeks,  and  about  as 
many  changes,  he  is  a  full  grown  worm,  or  cat- 
erpillar. When  at  rest,  he  is  rather  more  than 
an  inch  and  a  half  long ;  when  creeping  about, 
he  stretches  more  than  two  inches.  The  velvet 
coat  is  quite  gone.  In  its  place  he  wears  a  gar- 
ment softer  and  smoother  than  the  finest  satin, 
or  perhaps  more  like  the  delicate  kid  of  which 
gloves  are  made,  save  that  the  worm's  skin  is 
far  more  delicate.  The  color  is  apple-green, 
paler  on  the  sides,  and  whitish  beneath ;  the 
bands  are  black,  dotted  with  yellow  spots,  so 
placed  as  to  form  regular  lines  along  his  body. 
In  structure,  our  caterpillar  is  an  example  of 
all  others.  His  body  is  made  of  twelve  rings 
of  tolerably  firm  substance,  connected  by  softer 
bands,  and  covered  with  skin.  Thus  he  has 
the  most  perfect  freedom  of  motion.  He  can 
stretch  or  contract  himself,  can  turn  or  twist  in 
any  direction,  can  roll  into  a  ring,  or  straighten 
out  stiff,  like  a  twig  of  the  plant  on  which  he 
feeds,  or  conform  to  any  unevenness  of  surface 
over  which  he  may  creep.  His  head  is  covered 


204  ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 

with  a  flattened,  shelly  dish,  provided  on  each 
side  with  six  minute  shining  grains,  which 
naturalists  say  are  eyes.  They  do  not  say  that 
caterpillars  can  see;  Dr.  Morris  thinks  "it  is 
very  doubtful  whether  they  have  the  faculty  of 
vision."  One  who  watches  a  worm  feeding, 
moving  about,  reaching  out  this  way  and  that, 
quite  ignorant  of  any  danger  that  threatens, 
passing  at  the  shortest  distance  the  very  thing 
which  it  seems  to  seek,  never  recognizing  any 
thing  except  what  it  touches,  and  shrinking 
only  when  it  is  touched,  can  scarcely  fail  to 
conclude  that,  however  many  eyes  the  worm 
may  have,  it  is,  in  fact,  quite  blind. 

The  mouth  is  armed  with  a  pair  of  strong 
jaws,  which  open  and  shut,  not  vertically,  like 
those  of  a  dog,  or  a  man,  but  sidewise.  In 
the  middle  of  the  broad  under  lip  is  a  small 
elastic  tube,  with  a  minute  opening,  whence 
comes  the  silk  which  it  will  some  day  find  use- 
ful. In  tropical  countries  the  head  is  often 
queerly  ornamented  with  spikes,  prickles, 


CATERPILLARS'  LEGS.  205 

horns,  and  other  things ;  those  which  we  may 
see  rarely  have  any  thing  of  the  kind. 

Each  of  the  first  three  rings  of  the  body  has 
a  pair  of  jointed,  tapering  legs,  covered  with 
scaly  or  horny  mail,  and  ending  with  hooks. 
These  are  the  true  legs.  The  worm  has, 
besides,  four  to  ten  —  usually  eight  —  false,  or 
pro-legs.  These  are  thick,  fleshy,  without 
joints,  but  can  stretch  or  contract  like  the 
body,  are  furnished  at  the  end  with  a  fringe 
of  small  hooks,  and  can  take  very  different 
forms,  as  the  animal  wishes  to  cling  by  them 
to  various  surfaces.  Caterpillars  which  have 
the  full  number  of  legs,  that  is,  sixteen,  have 
still  four  rings  unprovided,  the  fourth  and  fifth, 
and  the  tenth  and  eleventh.  The  twelfth,  or 
anal  ring,  has  always  a  pair;  the  ninth  has  usu- 
ally a  pair;  the  other  pro-legs  vary  with  the 
species. 

The  motions  of  a  large  caterpillar  which 
has  the  full  complement  of  legs  are  delib- 
erate and  regular.  First  he  stretches  out  the 
elastic  body,  and  puts  down  the  six  horny 


2O6 


ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 


legs  together;  then  the  pair  of  anal  legs  take 
themselves  up,  and  replace  themselves  close 
behind  the  pair  of  the  ninth  ring,  shutting 
down  upon  the  twig  or  leaf,  as  if  made  of  India 
rubber;  then  the  other  pairs  of  pro-legs  lift  and 
move  forward,  the  hindermost  rising  and  fall- 
ing first,  and  the  others  following  in  their 
order;  mean  while,  motion  seems  to  begin  at 
the  tail,  and  flow  gradual  I}7  and  equably  through 
the  entire  body,  ending  by  pushing  the  head 
on  for  another  stretch.  The  motion  of  such  as 
have  but  one  or  two  pairs  of  pro-legs  is  similar 
in  fact,  though  different  in  appearance.  The 
hind  legs  are  drawn  forward,  and  set  down  just 
behind  the  true  legs,  the  body  being  thrown  up 
into  a  loop;  this  loop  straightened  out,  carries 
on  the  fore  legs  again.  These  caterpillars  are 
called  loopers,  geometers,  or  measurers,  since 
they  seem  to  measure  off  the  distance  of  their 
journeys.  Gail  Hamilton's  gardener  says  they 
do  so  :  measuring  with  his  thumb  and  finger  on 
his  coat  sleeve. 

The   looper  caterpillars  can  not  shorten  or 


THEIR    VORACITT.  207 

lengthen  their  bodies  like  others,  but  only 
bend  them.  Some  are  round  and  stiff,  of  the 
same  color  as  the  bark  on  which  they  live. 
They  grasp  the  stem  or  twig  with  their  four 
pro-legs,  while  the  body  stands  out  stiff  and 
motionless  for  hours  together,  and  the  ob- 
server mistakes  them  for  twigs,  or  leaf-stems. 
Each  kind  of  caterpillar  feeds  by  choice  only 
on  certain  kinds  of  food,  and  most  will  refuse 
any  other  variety.  They  usually  prefer  leaves; 
after  that,  flowers;  a  few  eat  the  pith  of  the 
stalk,  and  occasional  species,  the  pulp  of 
fruits.  Most  feed  by  night,  and  remain  quiet 
by  day,  as  if  torpid ;  some  are  so  voracious  as 
to  eat  constantly.  A  silkworm  devours  its  own 
weight  of  mulberry  leaves,  daily.  Reaumur 
gave  to  a  kind  which  eats  cabbage,  bits  of  cab- 
bage leaf  which  weighed  twice  as  much  as  their 
bodies.  The  pieces  were  consumed  in  less  than 
twenty-four  hours,  while  the  worms  increased 
their  weight  one  tenth.  What  if  a  man  weigh- 
ing 150  pounds,  should  eat  300  pounds  of  food 
in  a  day,  and  gain  15  pounds  of  flesh ! 


208 


ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 


When  a  caterpillar  wishes  food,  it  creeps  out 
to  the  edge  of  a  leaf,  and  twists  its  body  into 
such  a  position  that  this  edge  passes  between 
its  legs,  which  hook  on  upon  each  side.  It 
bites  a  mouthful  from  the  edge,  then  another, 
and  another,  moving  its  head  in  the  arc  of  a 
circle,  and  cutting  in  three  or  four  bites,  as  a 
reaper  would  cut  handfuls  of  grain  with  his 
sickle ;  the  head  moves  back  to  the  edge  of  the 
leaf,  and  begins  another  sweep;  the  fore  legs 
move  slowly  on  from  time  to  time,  until  the 
caterpillar  has  stretched  its  body  to  its  full 
length.  Then  the  body  draws  itself  back  again, 
the  pro-legs  keeping  their  places,  and  the  head 
cuts  in  again  for  a  new  swath.  The  pulp  of 
the  leaf  is  eaten  down  to  the  ribs,  and  often 
ribs  and  all  disappear  between  the  voracious 
jaws. 

But  we  must  return  to  our  caterpillar  of  the 
carrot-leaves.  When  he  has  finished  eating,  he 
becomes  uneasy.  He  no  longer  rests  quietly  on 
his  leaf,  or  he  moves  only  to  find  fresh  pastur- 


SPINNING.  209 

age ;  he  begins  to  wander  about,  and  if  we  do 
not  shut  him  up,  we  shall  lose  him  altogether. 
Presently  we  find  him  quiet  again  in  some 
secluded  corner  at  the  top  of  the  case;  if  he 
could,  he  would  have  found  a  retreat  in  a  knot- 
hole, a  crevice  between  boards,  or  an  obscure 
nook  under  the  fence  rail.  He  now  presses  the 
elastic  tube  of  his  under  lip  to  the  wood ;  the 
silk  material  adheres  to  it;  he  draws  his  head 
away,  and  stretches  a  fibre  of  silk  to  another 
point,  where  he  fastens  it  by  pressing  the  fresh 
material  against  the  surface.  He  crosses  and 
recrosses  the  threads  until  he  has  covered  a 
little  space  with  a  hillock  of  silk,  to  which 
he  fastens  himself  firmly  by  the  hooks  of  his 
hinder  feet.  Now  clinging  by  his  pro-legs,  he 
bends  his  head  back  to  about  the  fifth  ring,  and 
fastens  a  thread  to  the  wood  beside  him.  This 
thread  he  carries  over  his  back,  and  fastens  on 
the  opposite  side ;  he  lays  beside  it  a  second, 
and  a  third,  and  in  a  little  time  has  spun  a 
stout  band  or  loop  of  silk,  in  which  he  may  rest 
securely. 


210  ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 

Some  caterpillars,  like  the  dark-colored 
worms,  covered  with  spines,  which  infest  the 
hop  vines,  do  not  spin  the  band  for  the  back, 
but  content  themselves  with  the  little  mass  of 
silk  into  which  the  hinder  hooks  are  fastened. 
These  simply  hang  themselves  up,  and  let  their 
bodies  fall  into  a  vertical  position.  The  next 
business  is  to  throw  oft',  for  the  last  time,  its 
skin.  To  do  this,  it  constantly  bends  and 
straightens  its  body,  until  the  dried  skin  splits 
along  the  back,  and  part  of  the  body  beneath 
appears.  Next,  it  draws  the  fore  part  of  the 
body  out  of  its  covering.  Then  it  lengthens 
and  shortens  itself  by  turns,  each  time  splitting 
the  skin  still  further,  and  pushing  it,  like  a 
stocking,  nearer  to  its  tail,  where  it  is  soon 
a  mere  crumpled  packet.  Now  comes  the 
most  difficult  part  of  the  whole.  Out  from 
its  caterpillar  skin  the  creature  has  come 
in  a  smooth,  horny  armor,  laid  in  rings 
about  its  body,  while  its  head,  back,  and 
breast,  are  swathed,  like  a  mummy,  in  folds 
which  firmly  confine  every  limb.  It  can  only 


CHANGING  TO  CHRYSALIDES.         211 

wriggle,  jerking  itself  from  side  to  side.  Its 
tail  is  yet  in  the  folds  of  the  caterpillar  skin, 
which  is  hooked  to  the  silk  above.  It  must 
draw  itself  out  of  this  remnant,  throw  away 
the  cast  off  garment,  and  hook  itself  by  its 
tail  to  the  same  place.  We  see  now  the 
utility  of  the  silken  band  of  our  worm  of  the 
carrot  leaves,  but  the  hop  worm  has  no  such 
assistance.  It  has  neither  arms  or  legs  —  how 
can  it  do  so  much  without  losing  its  own  hold, 
and  falling  to  the  ground  ? 

The  supple,  contracting  rings  which  cover  its 
own  body  are  the  limbs  which  it  uses.  It 
seizes  a  portion  of  the  skin  between  two  of 
these  rings,  and  so  holding  on,  it  curves  the 
tail  until  it  draws  it  entirely  out  of  the  sheath 
which  covered  it.  But  its  body  is  shorter  than 
before  this  change,  and  it  must  climb  to  reach 
the  tuft  of  silk  to  which  it  should  hang.  It 
stretches  its  body  as  far  as  it  can,  and  seizes  the 
skin  higher  up,  between  two  other  rings,  at  the 
same  time  letting  go  below;  this  process  it 
repeats  with  different  rings  in  succession,  until 


212  ABOUT  B UTTERFLIES. 

finally  it  reaches  the  tuft  of  silk,  and  fastens  to 
it  the  hooks  in  its  tail. 

It  now  gives  itself  a  jerk,  which  sets  it  to 
spinning  rapidly;  it  rubs  against  the  skin,  and 
loosens  its  hold  on  the  silk.  If  one  whirl  is  not 
enough,  it  whirls  again,  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion, and  this  time  will  almost  surely  succeed. 
Reaumur  saw  one  which,  after  several  efforts  to 
dislodge  the  old  skin,  was  forced  to  leave  it 
where  it  was  so  firmly  fastened. 

In  about  thirty  hours  after  our  caterpillar  has 
made  himself  fast,  he  has  effected  this  change, 
and  now  hangs  by  his  tail,  or  in  his  hammock, 
a  pupa,  or  chrysalis.  Here  he  will  remain  in 
unconscious  security,  during  all  the  quiet  days 
of  autumn,  and  through  the  bitter  blasts  and 
piercing  frosts  of  winter,  until  the  warm  breezes 
of  another  June  awaken  his  dormant  powers  to 
a  new  life. 

Other  caterpillars  make  for  themselves  cases, 
or  cocoons,  spinning  them  of  silk,  and  often 
working  in  other  materials.  They  are  for  the 
most  part  oval,  or  egg-shaped,  sometimes  boat- 


HOW  THE?  USE  THEIR  HAIR.         213 

shaped,  and  are  usually  white,  yellow,  or  brown 
in  color.  In  some,  the  threads  cling  very 
slightly;  in  others,  they  are  closely  gummed 
together;  some  are  single,  others  double;  some 
so  closely  woven  as  to  quite  hide  the  pupa  with- 
in, others  so  thin  that  it  may  easily  be  seen ; 
some  bind  together  leaves,  within  which  they 
hide ;  some  work  into  the  shell  bits  of  earth ; 
while  some  weave  into  the  fabric  the  hairs 
with  which  their  own  bodies  had  been  cov- 
ered. 

One  variety  pulls  out  its  hairs  with  its  teeth, 
lays  them  against  the  web  already  spun,  and 
then  fastens  them  by  spinning  more  silk  over, 
or,  rather,  under  them  —  for  the  outside  of  the 
•cocoon  is  spun  first,  and  thickened  from  within. 
Another  does  not  pull  out  its  hairs;  it  cuts 
them  off.  Another  works  its  hairs  through  the 
meshes  of  the  silken  net,  and  then  wriggles 
about  until  it  rubs  them  off.  Another  pulls 
them  out  in  the  first  place,  then  sets  them  up 
like  the  stakes  of  a  palisade,  and  spins  a  light 


214  ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 

web  within,  curving  them  inward  so  as  to  form 
a  sort  of  cradle. 

Many  caterpillars  go  into  the  ground  to 
become  chrysalides ;  there  they  make  round  or 
oblong  cocoons.  These  are  always  smooth  and 
shining  within,  and  are  often  fitted  with  a  lin- 
ing of  silk.  Reaumur  took  a  cocoon  out  of  the 
ground,  broke  it  open,  and  placed  it  in  a  glass 
case  containing  nothing  but  sand.  In  four 
hours  the  injury  was  repaired. 

The  caterpillar  began  by  coming  almost 
entirely  out.  It  moved  its  head  forwards  until 
it  could  seize  a  bit  of  earth,  which  it  drew  into 
the  cocoon ;  then  it  came  out  for  another,  and 
so  wrought  for  an  hour,  gathering  material. 
Then  it  began  to  rebuild  the  broken  place. 
First  it  spun  a  band  of  loose  web  over  a  part 
of  the  opening;  then  it  placed  a  few  of  its 
grains  of  earth  in  the  meshes  which  it  had 
made;  it  spun  more  silk,  and  put  more  grains 
in  place,  binding  them  together  with  silken 
cords.  Presently  the  whole  was  closed  except 
one  small  opening,  which  it  filled  with  crossed 


THE  B  UTTER FL  T  APPEARS.  215 

threads,  and  then  finally  stopped  by  pushing 
among  the  threads  the  bit  of  sand  which  it 
had  saved  for  the  purpose,  and  which  made  all 
tight. 

A  caterpillar  found  on  the  oak  trees  cuts  off 
thin  strips  of  bark,  which  it  builds  into  two 
compact  blades ;  these  it  so  arranges  as  to  form 
a  hollow  cone,  or  boat-shaped  shell,  in  which 
it  becomes  a  pupa.  It  is  at  once  architect,  cab- 
inet-maker, and  weaver. 

In  due  time  —  sometimes  in  a  few  days, 
sometimes  not  until  another  summer,  and  in 
one  instance,  after  as  many  as  seven  years  — 
the  time  comes  for  the  last,  and  most  glo- 
rious transformation.  The  poetical  Greeks 
found  in  this  change  a  type  of  the  liberation 
of  the  soul  from  its  mortal  tenement,  and  its 
entrance  into  a  higher  and  happier  life ;  hence 
they  called  the  Butterfly,  Psyche,  the  soul. 
This  idea  is  most  natural.  The  worm  seerns 
to  spin  its  own  shroud,  to  make  its  own  coffin, 
often  to  enter  its  own  grave.  Yet  within  this 
shroud,  this  coffin,  this  grave,  it  lives,  a  dor- 


2l6 


ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 


mant,  waiting  life,  until  the  day  comes  for  its 
resurrection.  Then  it  bursts  its  cerements,  and 
emerges  in  a  new  and  beautiful  garb,  into  a 
brighter  existence.  But  the  new  life,  unlike 
that  of  the  soul,  is  brief  and  mortal;  a  few 
short  days  complete  its  round,  and  it  perishes 
forever. 

The  pupa-case  is  dry,  brittle,  and  easily 
broken.  The  least  movement  of  the  fly  within 
opens  the  dry  skin  over  the  middle  of  the 
upper  part  of  the  thorax;  the  split  extends 
over  the  forehead ;  the  pieces  separate,  and  the 
insect  finds  an  opening  through  which  it  may 
escape.  But  the  escape  requires  time,  for  the 
head,  the  antennse,  the  wings,  the  legs,  some- 
times even  the  tongue,  are  each  in  a  separate 
case,  and  must  be  liberated  one  by  one.  All 
the  parts  are  soft  and  moist.  The  wings,  espe- 
cially, are  a  pair  of  crumpled  packages,  fast- 
ened to  either  side  of  the  thorax.  Gradually 
they  unfold,  they  expand;  the  insect  clings  to 
a  twig,  and  suffers  them  to  hang  in  such  a  posi- 
tion that  they  may  expand  the  more  freely ;  in 


GLOWING   COLORS. 

time  they  become  dry  and  firm.  If  the  pupa 
is  in  a  cocoon,  there  is  yet  more  to  be  done, 
for  it  is  still  within  the  silken  envelope.  In 
some,  as  in  the  Cecropia  moth,  the  end  of  the 
cocoon  opposite  the  head  is  only  partially  closed, 
and  the  moth  more  easily  creeps  out.  Others 
cut  their  way  through  the  silk,  for  which,  Reau- 
mur says,  they  use  their  compound  eyes  as  files. 
Others  exude  a  liquid  which  softens  the  silk, 
and  assists  their  escape. 

The  perfect  insect  has  four  wings,  covered 
with  minute  scales  of  varied  forms;  these, 
under  the  microscope,  glow  with  the  most  beau- 
tiful metallic  tints.  "  Suppose  a  painter  could 
present  on  his  canvas,  in  all  their  splendor, 
gold,  silver,  the  ruby,  the  sapphire,  the  emer- 
ald, all  the  precious  stones  of  the  East,  he 
would  use  no  color,  or  shade  of  color,  which 
might  not  be  found  on  some  scales  of  some 
Lepidoptera,  where  nature  has  concealed  them 
from  our  gaze." 

The  thorax,  or  chest,  is  strongly  made,  in 
order  that  it  may  give  support  to  the  wings, 


218 


ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 


and  to  the  six  legs.  Many  have  the  legs  of 
equal  length,  and  use  all  in  walking ;  in  others, 
the  two  fore  legs  are  very  short,  and  are  kept 
folded  back  against  the  chest.  The  body  is 
long,  oval,  composed  of  five  rings,  joined  by 
membrane.  The  head  is  rounded,  flattened  in 
front,  and  furnished  with  hairs.  The  globular 
eyes  consist  of  a  great  number  of  facets,  on 
which,  in  different  species,  glitter  all  the  hues 
of  the  rainbow.  In  the  compound  eye  of  the 
Papilio,  more  than  17,000  facets  have  been 
counted.  The  antennae  are  placed  near  the 
upper  border  of  each  eye.  Reaumur  has  fig- 
ured six  different  shapes,  and  upon  them  the 
classification  into  families  partly  depends. 
"What  is  their  use?  Certainly  not  for  sight, 
taste,  or  smell.  They  are  of  little  use  as 
feelers,  and  there  seems  to  be  nothing  else  for 
them  to  do,  which  we  can  understand,  except  to 
serve  as  ears. 

The  jaws  of  the  caterpillar  have  disappeared. 
Instead,  the  Butterfly  has  a  long,  flexible  trunk, 
which  it  coils  up  into  a  small  spiral,  and  carries 


LATINO  EGGS.  219 

in  a  cleft  just  between  the  eyes.  In  some  spe- 
cies of  Hawk-moths,  the  tongue  is  longer  than 
the  whole  body.  It  consists  of  three  hollow 
tubes,  a  small  one  placed  between  two  that  are 
larger.  Through  it  the  insect  draws  honey 
and  the  juice  of  flowers.  But  how  can  it  eat 
even  the  most  solid  sugar?  On  examination  it 
appears  that  it  sends  down  through  one  or  two 
of  the  tubes  of  its  trunk  a  fluid  which  dissolves 
the  honey,  or  sugar,  which  is  then  carried  back 
through  the  other  tube.  j 

After  the  Butterfly  has  found  its  mate,  it  lays 
its  eggs,  some  hundreds  or  thousands  in  num- 
ber, upon  the  plant  which  is  the  proper  food 
for  its  young.  They  vary  much  in  shape  and 
color.  Usually  they  adhere  by  a  gummy  sub- 
stance ;  sometimes  they  are  covered  with  the 
down  from  the  abdomen  of  the  mother,  to  pro- 
tect them  from  cold,  or  injury.  Some  species 
place  them  in  clusters;  others  scatter  them, 
leaving  only  a  few  upon  any  single  plant.  In 
a  few  warm  days  they  are  hatched,  producing 


220  ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 

minute  caterpillars,  and  the  round  of  nature's 
course  is  completed. 

Of  the  Lepidoptera  some  fly  by  day,  others  in 
the  twilight,  others  still  in  the  darkness  of 
night.  Hence  authors  have  classed  them  as 
diurnal,  crepuscular,  and  nocturnal.  But  this 
division  is  not  found  to  be  entirely  useful,  since 
some  that  fly  by  night  fly  also  during  the  bright- 
est and  hottest  sunshine,  while  even  the  night 
flyers  do  not  fly  all  night.  There  are  three 
principal  sections. 

First,  there  are  the  Butterflies.  These  fly  by 
day,  have  club  shaped  antennae,  and  when  at 
rest,  the  fore  wings  in  some,  and  all  the  wings 
in  most,  stand  perpendicularly,  turned  back  to 
back. 

Second,  the  Hawk-moths.  These  fly,  some 
by  day,  but  most  in  the  morning  and  evening 
twilight;  they  have  the  antennae  thickened  in 
the  middle,  the  wings  narrow  in  proportion 
to  their  length,  and  confined  together  by  a 
bunch  of  stiff  bristles  on  the  shoulder  of  the 
hind  wing,  which  is  held  by  a  hook  beneath 


PAPILIO  A  S  TERIA  S.  221 

the  fore  wing;  the  wings,  when  at  rest,  are 
more  or  less  inclined  like  a  roof,  the  fore  wings 
covering  the  under  ones. 

Third,  the  Moths.  These  fly  mostly  by  night. 
The  antennae  taper  from  the  base  to  the  end, 
and  are  naked,  like  a  bristle,  or  feathered  on 
each  side;  the  wings  are  held  together  by 
hooks  and  bristles,  the  first  pair,  when  at  rest, 
covering  the  under  pair,  and  more  or  less 
sloped. 

Our  space  will  not  allow  us  to  describe  any 
of  the  many  varieties  of  Butterflies  and  Moths 
which  fly  among  us.  The  worm  whose  changes 
we  traced  from  the  carrot-tops,  produces  a 
large,  fine  Butterfly,  called  Papilio  Asterias, 
which  expands  from  three  and  a  half  to  four 
inches.  Its  color  is  black;  it  has  a  broad  band 
of  sulphur-yellow  spots  across  the  wings,  and 
a  row  of  fainter  yellow  spots  along  the  edge. 
The  hind  wings  are  tailed,  and  have  seven  blue 
spots  between  the  two  rows  of  yellow,  and  an 
eye-spot  of  orange,  with  a  black  centre. 


222  ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 


J'fow  TO  PATCH  AND  ^RESERVE  BUTTERFLIES. 

Any  active,  careful  lad  can  secure  a  beautiful 
collection  of  Butterflies  and  Moths  in  a  single 
season.  For  this  he  needs:  a  net;  an  ounce 
of  chloroform,  or  sulphuric  ether  ;  pins ;  a  set- 
ting-box ;  suitable  boxes  for  keeping  and  dis- 
playing specimens. 

Mosquito-netting  is  good  enough  for  the  net; 
make  a  bag  about  two  feet  long,  and  wide 
enough  to  be  sewed  to  a  light  wooden  hoop., 
twelve  or  fourteen  inches  in  diameter,  and  fast- 
ened firmly  to  a  handle  about  three  feet  long. 
Or,  take  three  or  four  springs  from  a  discarded 
hoop-skirt ;  leave  the  cotton  covering  on ;  slip 
them  through  a  hem  made  at  the  mouth  of  the 
net ;  have  them  project  three  or  four  inches 
beyond  the  hem  at  each  side ;  break  oft'  the 
extra  length,  and  then  bend  the  projecting  por- 
tions to  a  right  angle ;  lay  these  pieces  flatly 
against  the  handle  and  bind  fast  with  smooth 


THE  SETTING-BOX.  223 

twine.  The  net  thus  made  is  very  light,  flexi- 
ble, and  convenient. 

For  a  setting-box,  any  roomy  box,  of  wood 
or  pasteboard,  two  or  three  inches  deep,  will 
do.  The  bottom  may  be  covered  with  thin 
sheet  cork,  pasted  or  glued  down  ;  or,  instead, 
strips  of  corn-stalks  serve  to  hold  the  points 
of  the  pins  very  well.  Some  strips  should 
have  a  groove  between  them  one-fourth  of  an 
inch  deep  by  three-eighths  of  an  inch  wide,  to 
receive  the  bodies  of  the  larger  specimens. 

Where  nothing  better  can  be  had,  the  bot- 
tom of  the  box  may  be  arranged  thus  :  get 
strips  of  inch  board,  about  an  inch  wide,  and 
as  long  as  the  box ;  if  the  edges  are  sawed 
smoothly,  do  not  plane  them,  but  smooth  the 
upper  surface,  and  plane  off  each  upper  corner; 
place  the  sawed  edges  of  two  strips  together 
and  nail  them  ;  then  nail  on  a  third,  and  so  on, 
until  a  board  is  built  wide  enough  to  cover  the 
box.  The  corners  which  were  planed  off  now 
leave  triangular  grooves,  while  the  sawed  edges, 
though  quite  close,  still  allow  the  pins  to  pass 


224  ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 

between  them.  It  is  better  to  nail  the  strips 
together  than  to  fasten  them  with  cleats,  be- 
cause the  joints  hold  the  pins  better.  By  a 
little  care  the  grooves  may  be  made  of  different 
depths,  to  receive  specimens  of  different  sizes. 

Common  brass  pins  may  be  used ;  needles 
of  various  sizes  are  better;  best  of  all,  the  Ger- 
man pins  made  for  the  purpose,  and  sold  by 
dealers  in  philosophical  instruments. 

The  permanent  cases  are  best  of  wood, 
tightly  made,  and  glazed  on  one  or  both  sides. 
When  only  one  side  is  glazed,  the  bottoms  may 
be  fitted  like  that  of  the  setting  box,  and  should 
be  lined  with  white  paper.  Bits  of  camphor 
should  be  fastened  in  them  to  drive  away 
insects,  or  some  fine  day  only -a  few  wings, 
legs,  and  the  dust  of  bodies  will  remain  of  the 
most  valued  specimens. 

But  little  can  be  gained  by  striking  at  But- 
terflies on  the  wing.  Find  one  which  is  rest- 
ing on  a  flower,  or  on  the  ground ;  approach 
quietly,  bring  the  net  up  carefully  until  quite 
sure  of  him,  then  turn  it  skillfully,  and  he  is 


PLACING  THE   WINGS. 

caught ;  hold  up  the  bag,  while  the  hoop  is  flat 
on  the  ground,  the  insect  usually  rises  into  it, 
and  the  folds  falling  over  prevent  the  spoiling 
of  the  wings. 

Now  touch  the  head  with  a  drop  of  ether,  to 
stupefy  him,  take  him  out  gently,  put  a  pin 
through  the  thorax  between  the  roots  of  the 
wings,  and  place  him  in  the  setting-box.  As 
Izaak  Walton  says  of  using  a  frog  for  bait, 
"Use  him  as  though  you  loved  him."  Arrange 
the  feet  as  naturally  as  possible ;  then  with  a 
needle  push  the  fore  wings  forward  until  their 
hinder  edges  lie  nearly  in  a  straight  line  — 
beginners  do  not  usually  bring  them  forward 
enough.  Then  lay  over  the  wings  on  each  side 
a  strip  of  paper,  or  of  card,  and  fasten  it  down 
at  each  end  with  a  pin,  which  must  not  pass 
through  the  wings.  Take  care  that  the  two 
sides  are  placed  alike.  Some  specimens  of 
each  kind  should  be  set  upon  their  backs,  to 
display  the  under  surfaces.  Leave  them  in  the 
setting  box  until  thoroughly  dry,  allowing  two 
or  three  weeks  for  the  larger  kinds;  other- 


226 


ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 


wise  the  wings  will  get  awry,  or  droop,  and 
the  whole  have  an  awkward  appearance. 

Ether,  and  chloroform,  often  fail  to  kill; 
some  of  the  larger  moths  take  large  and 
repeated  doses,  and  still  live.  For  such,  a 
little  cyanide  of  potassium  may  be  had,  dis- 
solved in  water.  A  drop  taken  on  a  needle 
and  pricked  into  the  thorax  under  the  wings, 
is  merciful  to  the  poor  captive.  Great  care 
must  be  taken  with  this  substance,  for  it  is  very 
poisonous  when  taken  into  the  mouth. 

Hawk-moths,  and  many  others,  fly  very 
swiftly,  and  require  great  dexterity  in  their 
captor ;  take  them  when  busy  with  a  flower. 
Many  moths  may  be  attracted  through  an  open 
window  with  a  light.  During  the  day  they 
may  often  be  found  resting,  head  down,  on 
fences,  bark  of  trees,  and  elsewhere.  Cover 
your  specimen  with  a  glass,  slip  a  paper  under, 
and  take  him  away ;  a  few  drops  of  ether  on 
the  paper  fills  the  glass  with  vapor,  which  suffo- 
cates the  insect.  Some  of  each  kind  of  moth 


THE   WORM-CASE.  22>J 

should  be  set  up,  with  wings  in  the  natural 
position,  as  when  at  rest. 

Set  up  a  number  of  specimens  of  each 
kind,  in  order  to  secure  a  choice;  four  are 
always  wanted  to  show  the  upper  and  under 
surfaces  of  both  male  and  female.  Eeject  at 
once  all  that  are  broken-winged,  or  other- 
wise injured,  unless  the  species  is  rare,  and 
then  as  soon  as  a  better  one  is  found.  The 
collector  secures  his  finest  specimens  by  sav- 
ing the  cocoons,  and  taking  the  flies  as  soon 
as  hatched,  before  they  have  had  time  to  injure 
themselves.  The  cocoons  should  be  kept 
through  the  winter  in  a  cool  place,  in  a  roomy 
box;  when  the  time  comes  for  hatching,  twigs 
must  be  provided,  on  which  the  butterflies  may 
rest  while  the  wings  are  expanding,  else  they 
may  be  hopelessly  crippled. 

Early  in  summer,  get  a  candle  box,  and  raise 
the  lid  about  twelve  inches,  on  strips  of  board 
nailed  into  the  four  corners;  cover  three  sides 
of  the  open  case  with  wire  gauze,  and  fit  a  door 
to  the  fourth  side.  Fill  the  box  with  fresh  gar- 


228 


ABOUT  BUTTERFLIES. 


den  mould,  and  set  it  away  in  a  shady  place. 
If  a  new  caterpillar  is  found,  put  him  in  the 
case  with  plenty  of  fresh  food.  The  inhabitants 
will  not  quarrel,  and  will  usually  thrive.  When 
grown,  some  will  descend  into  the  earth;  some 
will  spin  cocoons,  and  some  will  hang  them- 
selves up  in  the  corners.  Keep  through  winter 
in  a  cool  place,  away  from  mice,  and  watch  the 
coming  out  of  the  insects  in  the  spring. 

A  little  patience  and  contrivance  will  do  all 
we  have  described,  and  more,  while  much  plea- 
sure and  instruction  will  be  gained.  Even  this, 
profitable  though  it  may  be,  should  not  be 
^allowed  to  interfere  with  the  performance  of 
regular  duty,  whether  work  or  study. 


NOTE. — The  general  reader  who  desires  further  infor- 
mation concerning  the  species  and  habits  of  insects,  will 
find  "  Harris'  Insects  Injurious  to  Vegetation,"  and  the 
"  Guide  to  the  Study  of  Entomology,"  by  A.  S.  Packard, 
Jr.,  now  issuing  in  numbers  in  Salem,  Mass.,  best  suited 
to  his  purpose. 


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DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 

7 

LOAN 

SEP  1  J  I 

ayr 

UNIV  OF  CM  '< 

or^- 

FORM  NO.  DD6, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 
BERKELEY,  CA  94720 


